


Second Chances

by jadea



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A little angst, Fluff, Friendship, Frottage, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, curse words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-09-21 06:00:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 78,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9534884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadea/pseuds/jadea
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts Harry wakes up after months in coma with extra magic he doesn’t need or want.Draco’s thankful he’s doesn’t have to spend years in Azkaban, but he’s not too excited about returning to Hogwarts for what will probably be the worst year ever.Harry and Draco both have problems that need sorting, maybe they can sort them together?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is mostly canon, but I've changed some things around a little and altered some things completely. As this is the first Harry Potter fic I've ever written and also the first novel length fic I've ever written, there may be some inconsistencies and it may seem a bit rushed in places, please let me know if there are any glaring problems.

Ron and Hermione ran quickly through Hogwarts’s corridors. Harry trailed behind them, underneath his invisibility cloak. The faces of fellow classmates passed them in succession, each face seemingly more terrified than the last. Harry spared them all only a glance as they zoomed by.

Harry hated how involved everyone had become with this war. So many people had died already. Many more would die in what would hopefully be the last war any of them would ever have to fight.

He focused ahead of him. Ron and Hermione were plowing through the crowds at nearly an impossible speed. Harry kept up with them as best as he could while trying to remain hidden. As the trio climbed higher through the halls, the amount of students trickled away until eventually, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were the only ones left.

The seventh floor of the castle was dim and quiet. Devoid of all the chaos happening only a few floors down. Harry listened for the faint sound of screams and curses being shouted below, but the seventh floor was well out of earshot of the battle. If Harry hadn’t known any better, he would never have known the Wizarding World was at war, not from up here, it was far too peaceful.

Harry followed Hermione and Ron until the three of them stood in front of the Room of Requirement.

“Are you sure the diadem is in there mate?” Ron asked Harry.

“I’m sure Ron.” Harry pulled the Invisibility cloak from his head. He handed it to Hermione. “I’ve seen it in there. That was definitely it.”

Hermione stuffed the invisibility cloak into her backpack. “If you’re sure, we just have to go in, get it, and figure out how to destroy it…before it’s too late,” she added hesitantly.

Harry looked at Hermione. He gave her a small smile and she smiled back. It was clearly forced. Harry hated seeing his friend like that. Hermione always held it together just as much as he and Ron did. They were all scared every time they found themselves on another dangerous adventure, but they tended to hide it well. Hermione was the best at hiding just how scared she was, but not today. Her words had betrayed her actions. That hesitant, “before it’s too late” was an indicator of just how terrified Hermione really was. She didn’t want to fight this war and certainly didn’t want to lose Harry to it. Harry didn’t know exactly what his fate would be, but he hoped that whatever happened wouldn’t affect his friends too much. He didn’t want them to suffer any more than they already had.

“It’s never too late,” Harry assured Hermione. It was cliché, but very fitting in the situation. Even if they failed to destroy the diadem, lost everything, Harry died, and Voldemort took over the wizarding world; it was never too late to at least try. Even if Harry had to attempt to defeat Voldemort while he took his very last breath, it was never too late to save everyone.

Ron placed his arms around Hermione’s and Harry’s shoulders. “Harry’s right,” he said. “Now let’s not waste any more time out here, and get in there and get that bloody horcrux, right?”

Harry ducked out from under Ron’s arm and paced three times in front of the space where the Room of Requirement would appear. On the third pass, two huge wooden doors appeared. Harry pulled one of them open and led the way inside the room.

The room was larger than he’d remembered it. It may have had even more junk in it than the last time he’d been there. Harry sighed. Things never could come easily for him. The three of them passed as quickly through the stacks of junk as they could manage without knocking anything over and risking being buried under piles of unwanted junk.

Harry led the way to the back of the Room of Hidden Things where he remembered seeing Ravenclaw’s diadem. Once there, he scrutinized the few piles in front of him. He spotted the old cabinet he’d seen it sitting atop and thanked the stars that the diadem rested right where he’d expected to see it. Harry stepped onto a chair at the bottom of the pile, reached up, and snagged the diadem from the cabinet.

Once it was in his hands, Harry rubbed his fingers over the inscription across the bottom. It was barely readable, but Harry could just make out Rowena’s quote: “ _Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.”_ Harry continued on, and ran his fingertips over the large jewel in the middle of the crown. It could have been his imagination, but Harry could have sworn he’d felt a sharp pain shoot through his fingers. It didn’t really hurt, but it had definitely felt strange. Strange and dark.

Harry turned to Hermione. “I don’t suppose you have an idea of how to destroy this, do you?”

Hermione thought for a moment. “The simplest way to destroy it would be to use the Sword of Gryffindor, but we’ll have to find it first.”

“We better start looking then,” Ron said, and attempted to lead the way back to the entrance of The Room of Hidden Things.

Before they could tread much ground, a noise from the left alerted them to someone’s presence. Draco Malfoy stepped out from a behind a large grandfather clock. He held a skinny black wand in hand, but made no attempt to raise it. He didn’t stand too close, but close enough that Harry could see his hands trembling.

Harry’s first reaction to the sight of Malfoy was concern. It was highly possible that it was fear that was making him shake like that. The instinct rose in Harry to go and comfort him. He knew he couldn’t do that though. Not only did he not have time for that, but how could he possibly go an offer comfort to one of his enemies? Ron and Hermione would surely be shocked and God only knew what sort of response he’d get from Malfoy.

Harry gripped his wand, the wand that he taken from Malfoy back at Malfoy Manor and pointed it in Malfoy’s direction. Hermione and Ron followed suit. Harry gripped the diadem tight. “What do you want Malfoy?”

“Potter-,”

“What do you want Malfoy?” Ron interrupted angrily.

Malfoy took a deep breath. His eyes flit from the wand Harry had stolen from him, to the diadem in Harry’s hand, and towards something behind Harry, before they finally rested back on the hawthorne wand.

“I didn’t come to hurt any of you. I just want my wand back Potter.”

“I can’t give it back to you Malfoy.”

“Why not?”

Harry dropped his defensive stance. He didn’t think Malfoy was much of a threat right now. He almost put his wand away, but couldn’t trust Malfoy completely. He tightened his grip around the wood. “I’m wandless right now. I need it.”

Malfoy breathed deeply. “But that’s my wand Potter.”

“I know that. But like I said, I need it. I’m sure you’ll be fine with that one.”

“This is my mother’s,” Malfoy replied. “She gave it to me after you stole mine-“

Ron scoffed. “You practically gave it to him Malfoy. Don’t come asking for it back now.”

“Ron,” Hermione chided.

Malfoy glared in Ron’s direction and continued his conversation with Harry. “I need my wand back so I can give my mother hers. We’re not planning on fighting Potter. We just want to get out of here. It would be nice if we had a way to defend ourselves.”

“Running away, just like the coward you always were.”

“Ron,“ Harry warned.

Malfoy continued once more. “We’re planning on apparating, but it’ll be hard enough getting to a safe enough spot to apparate from, let alone actually apparate without a wand. Or with the wrong one,” he added as he lifted his borrowed wand slightly.

“I’m sorry Malfoy,” Harry said. “You’re going to have to figure something out on your own.”

Honestly, Harry really did want to help. Malfoy had been a git to him ever since he met him back in first year and he’d antagonized Harry nonstop every day after. Harry had never let it rile him up too much though. His petty rivalries with Malfoy always felt like a healthy doses of competition to him. Malfoy hadn’t harassed him nearly as much in the past few years though. His actions toward Harry had actually been quite tame. So tame, in fact, that Harry had taken to following Malfoy on the occasion when he sometimes saw him looking disparaged in the corridors. Harry had wondered if he’d been up to something, but Malfoy seemingly never was. And if he was, Malfoy was good at hiding it.

Sixth year left Harry feeling extremely sorry for Malfoy. For the entire year, he’d seemed out of it. Depressed possibly. _Why_ Harry hadn’t known, but the more he saw him, the more he felt sorry for him. Harry knew what it felt like to wander through life feeling out of sorts. He’d felt that feeling for the first eleven years of his life.

As he watched Malfoy each day in their classes and in the Great Hall, Harry had found himself feeling more than pity for Malfoy. Harry found himself wanting to comfort Malfoy and ask him if he was okay and whether or not he needed anything. Harry didn’t know where he’d apparently lost his marbles, but he had to admit that over time, he had started feeling extremely sympathetic towards Malfoy. Even worse, he’d started to develop feelings for Malfoy. They came out of the blue like a punch to the gut. He’d never tell Malfoy about his feelings of course, especially not since they had derived from pity. Harry especially would never tell Malfoy because Malfoy was a right git and he’d never let Harry live his crush down. Harry took his feelings for Malfoy and kept them under a lock and key. He had every intention of keeping them locked away for the rest of his possibly short life.

Harry turned away from Malfoy and started once more towards the entrance of the room. They’d wasted enough time. Harry would hope that Malfoy would figure something out and make it out of this whole thing alive, but right now he had to worry about the battle. He’d have to face Voldemort soon, and he didn’t stand a chance if he didn’t destroy the last horcruxes.

Before Harry, Ron, and Hermione could reach the doors, the heavy wood banged open and reverberated against the walls. Crabbe and Goyle entered the room. Harry and his friends stood still as Crabbe and Goyle peered into the room until they spotted its four occupants.

Goyle nodded in Malfoys direction. “Are you okay? Need some help taking care of these three?”

“I’m fine,” Malfoy replied. “I can take care of them myself. You guys go ahead.”

Crabbed hummed. “It doesn’t seem like you’ve got it under control though,” Harry watched as Crabbe looked down towards the diadem in Harry’s hand. “What’s that you’ve got there Potter?”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione raised their wands against the boys standing in the doorway.

“We don’t want to hurt you guys,” Ron threatened. “Just let us through.”

Goyle let out a loud guffaw. “Why would we do that? The Dark Lord wants you dead Potter. Do you really think we’d just let you guys go?”

            Just once, Harry wished Crabbe and Goyle were as stupid as they looked. How great it would have been if they really did just let him and his friends by. Harry had no time, and no choice. He casted a stinging hex in Crabbe and Goyle’s direction and used the distraction to run towards the outskirts of the room. Ron and Hermione were on his tail, and Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, were several feet behind them.

            Various curses flew past Harry’s ears. He could hear Ron and Hermione behind him hurling hexes over their shoulders. Harry only focused ahead of him. It was just Harry’s luck that the room was filled with so much junk. It could be used to his advantage. He ducked and dodged through the maze of junk hoping to confuse his attackers just enough to escape unharmed.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron managed to lose the boys eventually, and Harry made a beeline towards the exit. Before he could reach the doors, a spanner was once again thrown into the works. Crabbe emerged from behind a cabinet several yards away and to the right of Harry. His wand was drawn, and before Harry could react, Crabbe cast a spell.

Harry couldn’t hear what the spell was, nor could he make out the spell used on Crabbe’s lips, but before he could think about what he could possibly cast to shield him and his friends from an unknown curse, red and orange fire burst from Crabbe’s wand. It knocked the large man back a few paces, but he managed to keep his balance and continued pointing his wand and the fire in Harry’s direction.

Harry froze. He could see Ron raise his wand out of the corner of his eye, possibly to cast some sort of water spell to put out the flames.

“No!” Hermione yelled and smacked Ron’s arm down. “That’s fiendfyre,” she said frantically. “You can’t stop it. Run!” Hermione grabbed Ron’s arm and ran towards the exit.

Harry continued staring at the fire that began to engulf the room. He’d heard about fiendfyre. How it emerged uncontrollably from the caster’s wand and took out everything in its path. It was bright and hot, but surprisingly slow. Harry watched as the flames licked the walls and thick black smoke rose to the ceiling.

“Harry! Run!” Hermione screamed.

Harry snapped out of his daze, turned, and ran. Hermione and Ron were already catching their breaths just outside the doors. Once Harry reached them, he turned around to assess the damage to the Room of Requirement. He squinted and could make out three figures through the smoke. It appeared that Crabbe couldn’t keep control of the fiendfyre and a part of him had caught on fire. Goyle appeared to be attempting to put the fire out, while Malfoy stood motionless near the entrance watching his friends as the fire slowly crowded around them.

Once Crabbe and Goyle had succumbed to the fire, Harry could see the fiendfyre start to change direction and head towards Malfoy. Though Malfoy seemed unharmed, he still stood there and watched the flames come towards him. Was Malfoy planning on standing there and letting the flames burn him alive? Had he frozen in fear and lost all instinct to run? Harry took no time to question anything else. There was no way he was going to stand here and watch Malfoy die, not when he cared about him so much. Harry ran back into the room as Ron and Hermione’s screams chased him.

“What are you doing?!” Harry screamed at Malfoy over the roar of the flames. “Come on!”

Harry pushed his wand into his pocket and grabbed Malfoy’s wrist with his now free hand. He dragged Malfoy a few steps away before Malfoy suddenly reacted and tried to pull away from Harry’s grip.

“Let me go Potter!” he half screamed, half sobbed. “Let me go! Let. Me. Go!”

Malfoy broke free from Harry’s grasp and ran further into the room. Harry ran after him and grabbed his wrist again.  Malfoy again, tore away from him. Having no choice, Harry dropped the diadem and wrapped his arms tightly around Malfoy’s waist. He dragged him kicking and screaming through the exit. As Harry and Malfoy left the room, Ron and Hermione quickly slammed the doors behind the two of them.

Due to the momentum and Malfoy’s struggling, Harry fell onto the floor with Malfoy on top of him. As soon as they hit the floor, Malfoy stopped struggling and lay still. They both breathed heavily and coughed a few times, freeing some of the smoke from their lungs. Harry might have seen himself enjoying the situation in another context, but the fact that he and Malfoy could have just died, quickly pushed any possible romantic thoughts from his mind.

 Once Harry could breathe normally, he worked himself free from underneath Malfoy and stood up. He looked down at Malfoy in confusion before he went over to his friends standing off to the side.

“What the hell were you thinking Harry?” Ron screamed. “Why would you go back in there? And after Malfoy at that?”

Hermione was calmer. “Harry, you could’ve died. What were you thinking?”

“He clearly wasn’t thinking at all Hermione. What about the diadem? What are we going to do now? “

Harry stayed quiet. He had no idea what they would do now. He hadn’t been thinking about the diadem when he went back in to save Malfoy. He’d been thinking about Malfoy’s life and nothing else. He couldn’t have just left him in there to die. Not when Malfoy was _right there._ How was Harry supposed to just let the flames engulf him? Crabbe and Goyle were already done for, not that he would have saved the two of them if they weren’t, but there was no way Harry was going to stand there and watch Malfoy die as well.  Harry was worried about how his friends might take his death, but Harry was sure _he_ wouldn’t have taken Malfoy’s death well. He’d seen enough dead people for one night. He didn’t want to add more to the count. Not when he could do something about it.

Ron continued, “Maybe the fire died out? Is there a way we can put it Hermione? We can’t just lose like this. We can’t all just die like this!”

Hermione huffed an exasperated breath, “Calm down Ronald. I think we’ll be okay.”

“What? How?” Ron asked.

Hermione looked over towards where Malfoy was standing in front of the doors to the Room of Requirement. She lowered her voice, “I’ve done some research on horcruxes. There’s certainly not much information about them, but there’ve been a few people who wrote about them. Secretly, of course. There are so few books about horcruxes in print. No one would want that kind of material falling into the wrong hands, naturally. It’s hard to get ahold of books like that, but Dumbledore could get his hands on anythi-“

“Sorry Hermione, but can you get to the point?” Harry interrupted. As much as Harry loved that Hermione did so much research, he hated how much she’d always ramble before telling him what she’d discovered. He was truly grateful for her talent of parsing through all kinds of information when he needed help, but right now, he just needed the point and not the details surrounding it.

Hermione looked slightly put out by Harry’s rude interjection, but she continued without scolding him, “Sorry, Harry.”  She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I did some reading on horcruxes, and there aren’t many things that can destroy them, but fiendfyre is definitely one of them.”

“Really?” Harry asked. “So the diadem’s probably been destroyed?”

“More than likely, yes.”

“If fiendfyre destroys the horcruxes, why didn’t you tell us before? We could’ve used that on some of the others.”

Hermione gave Ron her best “don’t-be-so-stupid-Ron-look”, “Did you not see what happened in there? Fiendfyre is a very dangerous spell. It’s hard to control and could easily kill you if don’t know what you’re doing. It’s far too risky to even try.”

Ron blushed and his ears went scarlet red. “Sorry. I didn’t think about that.”

“Let’s leave the thinking to Hermione Ron. The two of us clearly don’t do much of it,” Harry joked.

Ron chuckled along with Harry. Hermione just rolled her eyes.

“Now’s not the time for jokes Harry. Be serious.”

“I was being completely serious,” Harry said as he smiled at her.

Hermione smiled back. A sincere smile this time. It didn’t last long though. Hermione’s smile dropped. “We’ve got one more horcrux left to destroy Harry.”

 _Two_ Harry corrected in his head. Before Harry had joined Hermione and Ron to search for the seventh horcrux, the trio had been separated before they’d reached Hogwarts. Harry had run towards the safety of the Shrieking Shack, but Voldemort and Snape had been there. He hid, and watched while Voldemort had Nagini attack Snape and leave him there to die. Harry had always hated the Professor, but he ran to his side anyway.

Once he was by the man’s side. Snape hadn’t said much, but he’d given Harry his memories. When Harry reached the castle, he viewed Snape’s memories in Dumbledore’s pensieve. He’d seen way more about Snape than he’d ever wanted to see, but the most important thing he saw was a conversation between Snape and Dumbledore. Dumbledore had said that a piece of Voldemort lived inside of Harry. Harry was the last horcrux and the implication was clear. Harry would have to die, in order for Voldemort to be killed.

“We’ve got to kill Nagini,” Ron said.

“But she’s always next to him. How can we kill her?” Hermione questioned.

“Find the Sword of Gryffindor,” Harry told the two of them. Voldemort’s not always paying attention to the snake. When he’s distracted, kill her.”

Hermione nodded. “It’ll be great if we can find an easy way to distract him.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Harry said.

“How?” both Ron and Hermione asked at the same time.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got a plan.” Harry certainly didn’t have anything concrete in mind, but he’d be damned if he told them that. They’d attempt to stop him and he couldn’t let that happen. “You two go look for the sword. And I’ll take care of the rest.”

Ron squinted at Harry. Harry tried his best to give his best friend a reassuring look. Ron wasn’t the smartest person, but in the more recent years, Ron had developed the ability to see straight through Harry. Somehow, he always managed to read him. Harry was never one for wearing his heart on his sleeve, but Ron was always capable of pulling Harry’s sleeves up. Harry could fool Hermione, but after the mistrust Harry and Ron experienced during the Triwizard Cup, Ron had taken the time to truly learn about Harry and learn his tells.  Harry could tell that Ron didn’t quite believe that Harry had something planned.

“I’ll take care of it,” Harry reiterated. “Trust me.”

At the words “trust me”, Harry saw Ron loosen up. Ron probably still didn’t believe him, but at least he had hope.

“Be careful mate,” Ron said, and gave Harry a hard pat on the shoulder.

“You guys be careful too.”

Harry briefly hugged his friends and quickly walked away. Before he left the corridor, he stopped and glanced over at Malfoy. He’d been standing there staring at the Room of Requirement ever since Harry had saved him. Harry wondered what Malfoy would do now. Would he still run away with his mother like he planned? Did he blame Harry for Crabbe and Goyle’s deaths? Would he actually decide to fight against Harry? Or would he miraculously decide to fight for the Light?

Hermione’s voice broke Harry out of his thoughts. “We’ll see you later. Right Harry?” Hermione asked. Her eyes were red and filled with unshed tears. It was possible that she knew he wasn’t planning on coming back.

Harry turned and smiled at Hermione and Ron. He made a point to give them the biggest smile he could, despite the situation. This would probably be the last time they’d see him alive. He wanted them to remember this. To remember this _exact_ moment-the three of them together-doing their damnedest to survive. _This_ was the moment he wanted ingrained in their memories forever. Not the sight of his cold, dead body, after he’d been killed.

Harry gave one solid nod. “I’ll see you later. I promise.” Harry was sure it was a promise he wouldn’t keep, but it didn’t stop him from saying it. He knew he’d keep it if he could. He was sure Hermione and Ron knew that too.

He turned, gave one last glance towards Malfoy, and ran away. The further he got from the seventh floor corridor, the heavier his heart felt. Leaving his friends was hard, but it had to be done. They’d grieve for a while once he was gone, but they’d be thankful later. Harry quickly wiped away the tear that fell down his cheek. Now wasn’t the time for tears. There would be plenty shed for _him_ later.


	2. Chapter 2

After Potter had shuffled himself out from under him, Draco managed to come to his senses just enough to push himself up from the floor. He breathed heavily through his mouth a few times before he stumbled over to the doors that led to the Room of Requirement.

Draco stared at the doors blankly. Crabbe and Goyle were surely dead. The fiendfyre Crabbe had cast would have killed them in an instant. There was no need to think about how he could possibly save them now. They were dead. End of story.

Draco took a peek out of the corner of his eye. He could see Potter, Granger, and Weasley speaking in hushed tones off to the side. None of them spared a glance in his direction. They clearly didn’t care that Crabbe and Goyle were dead. They had more important things to worry about. He focused on the door once more.

If only Crabbe hadn’t been stupid enough to cast fiendfyre. Draco didn’t know who had taught the imbecile such a dangerous spell, but would it have been too much to ask for them to have taught him how to control the damn thing?

“So stupid,” Draco whispered to himself.

He thought about all the deaths he’d seen in the last few months. He’s seen countless muggles and muggleborns die at the hands of the death eaters and The Dark Lord over the summer. He had hoped that when he returned to Hogwarts for his seventh year, he’d get away from it all.  Instead, he was met with Death Eaters on the teaching staff. The Death Eater’s Draco had let into the castle the year before, had apparently been ordered to stick around by Lord Voldemort.

Surviving the year and trying to avoid having to torture his classmates had been extremely hard. Now the true battle had begun, and Draco wanted absolutely no part of it. He just wanted to get away from the school and go somewhere safe with his mother, but he couldn’t even do _that_ without running into more death. The dead bodies of his classmates on the lower levels of Hogwarts, and the bodies of Crabbe and Goyle would probably stay ingrained within his memory forever.

Draco bit his lip. He was pissed. This whole thing was crazy. He rubbed the Dark Mark on his arm through the thick sweater he wore. If he had never become a Death Eater maybe Crabbe and Goyle wouldn’t have died. Draco would have never attempted to kill Dumbledore, never let the Death Eaters into the school, never- Draco scoffed. If he had refused to become a Death Eater his father would have forced him to anyway. If he wanted to stay anywhere near his mother, he really had no choice. His father would have disowned him the minute he refused. No. The only way he could’ve made sure his mother would be okay was to stay near her in the Manor. If becoming a Death Eater was the price he had to pay. It was one he would have paid again and again.

A lump rose in Draco’s throat. He swallowed it down. His eyes welled up with tears, but he knew they wouldn’t spill. He was more angry than sad. He was angry at Crabbe and Goyle for interrupting his conversation with Potter and his friends. He was angry that Crabbe cast a spell he clearly knew nothing about and he was angry that Crabbe and Goyle had died so uselessly, but he was angriest at himself for not doing anything to stop it. He knew deep down that there was nothing he could have done, but it didn’t stop him from wishing that he had at least tried.

Alongside his anger, Draco felt guilt too. Crabbe and Goyle had never truly been his friends. Not real one’s anyway. Draco never opened up to them, never told them about the things that were happening in his life, and he never told them just how much pressure he felt he was under. Ever since they were in first year, Draco saw them as nothing more than the brawn to his brains. They had tagged along with Draco, hanging onto his every word for years and Draco never regarded them as much more than his bodyguards. They had always been willing to help Draco in whatever scheme he’d planned. That was exactly why they’d been so keen on helping him drag Potter to The Dark Lord. In the end they’d both lost their lives helping someone who never really gave a damn about them. Draco cleared his throat. He wouldn’t cry for them. He didn’t deserve to.

Draco looked around the corridor. Potter had fucked off somewhere. Surely he was out attempting to save the world. Weasley and Granger had stayed behind however. Draco watched as they stood there hugging each other. Granger was sobbing into Wesley’s shoulder and Weasley was patting her bushy brown head.

“Harry’ll be okay,” Weasley said to her. “He’s our best mate. How much stuff have we been through Hermione? We always make it out okay, right? We will this time too. Harry’s stronger than all us. He’ll win this thing. I know he will.”

Draco was surprised at how confident Weasley sounded. Potter was only one person, and everyone had their hopes set on him. One teenage boy? How the hell did everyone expect him to defeat one of the most powerful wizards alive? Draco shook his head. If he was honest with himself, he could admit that he wanted Potter to truly become the hero everyone thought he was. He wanted Potter to win against The Dark Lord, so he could be free from all the crap that came along with being a Death Eater. The death and destruction was far too much for him. He’d love it if Potter stopped this war. If he were being extremely honest though, Draco would admit that he had absolutely no faith in Potter. Weasley had said that Potter was stronger than all of them, but Draco wasn’t sure that was enough.

Weasley wiped the tears from Granger’s cheeks. “Let’s go,” he told her. Granger stood up straight and rubbed her hands across her face. Her sobs had tapered off into small sniffles and she stood up straight. He patted her on the shoulder. Weasley placed a hand on Granger’s back and guided her away from the corridor. Neither of them paid any attention to Draco.

Draco sighed. He turned back around towards the Room of Requirement and placed a hand on one of the wooden doors. It was surprisingly cool to the touch considering the fire that had just taken place behind them. The fire that might _still_ be taking place behind them. Draco leaned his head against the door. Black smoke tinged with a dark green color seeped out from underneath it. He’d never seen green smoke before, but he knew next to nothing about fiendfyre, so he pushed his curiosity aside. Draco pushed himself away from the door, gave one last sigh and ran away in search of his mother.

******

Harry ran quickly through the corridors of Hogwarts. He needed to make it out of the castle. Voldemort was outside. At least he was the last time Harry had checked. He needed to get out there before more damage was done to Hogwarts and its students. Thankfully, the moving staircases in the castle were incredibly still during the battle. It was like they knew he needed them to stay exactly still, so he could make it to where he needed to be in time. The last thing he needed was to have to run the long way through the castle. He needed to stop Voldemort now, not when the stairs decided to lead him in the right direction.

On the way down, Harry ran into a few Death Eaters searching the castle on their own. They hadn’t been too much more than small distractions as he made quick work of disarming and stunning them. Eventually, Harry made it all the way down to the second floor staircase before he ran right into Ginny and Neville.

“Harry!” Ginny yelled.

“Be quiet Ginny,” Harry shushed her. He didn’t want his friend alerting others to his presence in the castle. He figured a surprise attack was his best defense in this war and he certainly couldn’t surprise Voldemort if everyone knew he was around.

“Sorry,” Ginny said as her cheeks colored. “I was worried about you. I wasn’t thinking. What are you doing here? Are you okay? Where’s Ron and Hermione? They’re okay right?”

Harry took a deep breath at Ginny’s barrage of questions. He placed his hands on Ginny’s shoulders “I’m fine. They’re fine. Don’t worry. But what are you doing here? Are you fighting Ginny? You should leave and get to safety with the other students.”

“No. I won’t,” Ginny replied brusquely. “McGonagall said the older students could stay and fight if we wanted to. I want to stay and help. I’ve spent years here in this castle. I should protect it if I can.”

Harry nodded. “You’re staying too?” he asked Neville.

Neville nodded firmly. “I feel the same way Ginny does. I want to help you too. In any way I can.”

Harry was surprised at Neville. He remembered the days Neville lurked around the castle all jittery and startled at even the slightest provocation. The person in front of him now didn’t appear to be scared in the slightest. Had that happened while Harry was out searching for horcruxes? Harry supposed a year under Death Eater tutelage would shake the fear out of anyone.

Harry smiled at the both of them. He ridiculously felt like a proud parent who’d watched his baby’s grow up into strong capable adults. He chuckled and hugged them both. When he pulled away, he looked them both in the eyes and subsequently told them to take care of themselves.

“Take care of each other too,” he added as he turned to continue on his mission.

Before he could go, Ginny grabbed ahold of Harry’s free hand. She stroked a finger gently over his thumb. “Where are you going Harry?”

“I have something to do. Don’t worry okay?”

“Don’t worry?” Ginny questioned. “That means I should worry right?”

Harry couldn’t think of a way to respond to that, so he didn’t. Instead, he simply smiled at her, and patted her hand before he freed himself from her grasp.

“Be careful,” he said finally, and ran away before he could catch Ginny’s expression. 

Harry made it to the first floor of the castle. There were no Death Eaters milling about attempting to attack him. Fortunately, there were no students milling about either. Even more fortunate was that there weren’t any dead students littering the floor either. The corridor leading to the entrance of the school was empty, save a few fallen portraits and marked walls that spoke of the battle that had probably taken place there. Everyone who was defending Hogwarts must’ve been outside fighting for their lives.

The front doors were just ahead. Harry walked slowly down the hallway until he reached them. He placed a hand on the door handle and stilled. It finally hit him that he was literally about to sacrifice himself. If he stepped out of these doors there would be no tomorrow for him. He’d already seen his friends for the last time he’d ever get to. It was sad really. Especially since, they didn’t even know what Harry had planned on doing.

Harry pulled his hand away from the handle. He could always forget all about his plan. He could attempt to run away now if he wanted to. He didn’t have to die if he didn’t want to. A shake of his head, and Harry immediately stopped that train of thought. He _could_ run away. He could let everyone down, leave them to attempt to destroy Voldemort themselves, leave them to defend their own lives, and hopefully live his life somewhere far, far, away from Voldemort, but that was incredibly unrealistic. Leaving so many people to their potential deaths was something Harry couldn’t bring himself to do. Even if he cared about no one else, his friends were there, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, his classmates, the Weasley’s, his _family_. Not to mention Malfoy. What would happen to them if he left?

If he thought logically, he was physically linked to Voldemort. The man could probably find him anywhere. Not to mention the fact that Harry was a horcrux. No one could ever defeat Voldemort as long as Harry lived.

Harry thought back to Trelawney’s prediction. “Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.”  Harry could never lead a happy life as long as Voldemort was alive, but he’d _have_ to die at the hands of Voldemort so that everyone else could. It was probably one of the most unfair things that could possibly happen to someone, but when had life ever pretended to be fair? 

He took a deep breath. It was funny how the Boy-Who-Lived was about to become the Boy-Who-Died. A few tears escaped Harry’s eyes and ran down his cheeks. He wiped them away before he could really even register he was crying. Now wasn’t the time. Since he was going to sacrifice himself for the Greater Good, Harry decided he’d rather leave the crying to the people he was dying for. Harry chuckled. The humor in this situation wasn’t lost on him. He was about to become the martyr everyone always accused him of being.

Harry pulled on his hood and put his head down. He placed his hand on the door handle once more and turned it. He carefully stepped outside and came to a halt. There were several small battles taking place around him. It was so chaotic, he was sure no one noticed him standing on the stairs of Hogwarts. Many students battled back and forth with almost as many Death Eaters in several spots.

Harry kept his head down and quickly made his way towards the Forbidden Forrest. Once Harry made it to the end of the forest, he stopped and gazed over at Voldemort. He was probably standing about thirty yards away, conversing with several of his Death Eaters and a few that had just arrived. Voldemort’s snake was nowhere to be seen. 

Harry hadn’t realized he’d be met with Voldemort so quickly. He had hoped he’d have a little more time to come to terms, but now was as good a time as ever. Harry tucked his wand into his sleeve. He took several deep breaths, removed his hood, and stepped out into the clearing.

Voldemort noticed him almost immediately. Voldemort waved a few Death Eaters out of his line of sight. He regarded Harry from head to toe. Harry felt as if he was on display. Though he guessed he was in a way. He hadn’t been this close to Voldemort in such a long time, the man’s beady eyes boring into him through his skeleton like form was unnerving.

“Ah, Harry Potter,” Voldemort practically hissed. “Given the fact that you sought me out and appear to be all alone, I presume you’ve come to fulfill your purpose. I do hope you are prepared to die”

Harry said nothing. He swallowed and closed his eyes. His heart beat erratically and his breathing was shallow and quick. Harry hadn’t thought about what it might feel like to die and he hadn’t thought about what happened after people died. If he was lucky, maybe there would be some sort of afterlife where he could meet his parents and Sirius. Harry thought briefly, that maybe dying wouldn’t be so bad.

He didn’t know how Voldemort had planned to kill him. He hoped the man would make it quick and easy, but he wouldn’t put it past him to torture him endlessly until Harry begged for his death.

Voldemort decided to make quick work of him. He heard the man cast a quiet Avada Kedavra, and he could swear he heard the curse as it went flying through the air. It hit him square in the chest and knocked him off his feet. He hit the ground hard, his skull bouncing off the hard dirt in the process. Death wasn’t instant. Harry was still conscious enough to know he was dying. He attempted to open his eyes, move his fingers, wiggle his toes, anything really, but his limbs were numb and prickly. It reminded him of the feeling he got when he’d wake up in the morning sometimes and could barely feel his arm because he’d been sleeping on it all night. It felt very similar to that, except this was far worse and far more painful.

Energy drained from Harry’s body. If energy was a visible thing, he was sure people would be able to see it seeping out from his pores. A few seconds later, Harry could no longer think. His brain was buzzing and felt thick and muddy. His heart beat slower, his lungs drew in their last breaths, and Harry could no longer feel anything at all. Harry died and his body stilled.

Seconds later, Harry opened his eyes. He was disoriented and unsure of where he was. When his vision cleared, he could see a figure approaching him. He stilled and closed his eyes. He could feel whoever or whatever the figure was hovering over him. Harry could feel two thin, cold fingers press into his left wrist. Harry realized the figure was checking for a pulse. He clearly wasn’t dead then. It was probably too late to play dead, but he stayed perfectly still and tried to slow his breathing. The cold fingers pressed into the spot on his neck, just under his chin this time.

It was over at this point. Whoever this was, would tell Voldemort he wasn’t yet dead, and Voldemort would treat Harry to The Killing Curse Part 2. Harry damned himself for having the worst luck. He really was the Boy-Who-Lived. It would have been nice if he could really just die properly for once.

After checking his pulse, Harry could feel the person place their head over his chest, presumably to hear if his heart was still beating. If they didn’t know he was alive before, they would surely know it now. Harry braced himself for the slew of Death Eaters that would probably come to drag him over to Voldemort once they heard he was alive, but instead of hearing words akin to someone acknowledging that he was still alive, Harry heard a faint whisper directed towards him.

“Is my son still alive?”

Harry opened his eyes, just enough to come face to face with Narcissa Malfoy. He couldn’t sense much just looking at her, but he could see the worry in her eyes. Harry didn’t think much about whether he should or how he should have responded. He gave a barely perceptible nod.

At that, Narcissa stood quickly and addressed Voldemort, “He is dead, My Lord.”

Harry made sure not to let a gasp of surprise leave his mouth. Narcissa Malfoy had just lied to Voldemort for him. Harry didn’t know what exactly would happen after this, but he silently thanked Narcissa for giving him even the smallest chance of living and defeating Voldemort once more.


	3. Chapter 3

His feet carried him quickly through the forest. In his haste, Draco tripped over practically every tree branch and rock there, but he eventually made it to the clearing. Draco hid behind a large tree. Across the clearing, he could see his mother standing in the vicinity of The Dark Lord. He glanced around for his father, but as far as he could tell, the man wasn’t around. That was a good thing. It would make it easier for him to grab his mother and run away with her without Father blocking the way and saying they needed to stay near The Dark Lord’s side and worship him for the rest of their lives. Draco just had to figure out how to get his mother away from the man. That would be the hard part.

The Dark Lord’s and the Death Eater’s attentions were focused towards the forest. Draco made sure he was thoroughly hidden behind the tree, and looked over to find out what was holding everyone’s attention. Someone stepped into the clearing and removed the hood that concealed their identity. It was Harry Potter. What on Earth was that idiot planning?  By the look of things, the man had stepped into the clearing sans his Gryffindor friends or any other back up. Was he practically asking Voldemort to kill him?

Apparently he was. Draco watched as Voldemort drew his wand and cast an Avada Kedavra at Potter. Draco’s breath hitched as he watched the curse fly through the air. Its bright green light hurled towards Potter.  Potter made no attempt to dodge or deflect the curse. He simply stood there and let the curse hit him. Potter was forced back onto the ground. Draco watched as Potter lay there unmoving.

Once Potter hit the ground, the Death Eaters and The Dark Lord stilled. No one said a word. Draco saw The Dark Lord beckon towards his mother. She went over to him, her gait just as graceful and unflinching as it always was. The Dark Lord leaned down towards his mother and Draco grimaced as the man’s hand clutched at his her shoulder. Draco had absolutely hated it when the man had touched him. He shivered, as he remembered the man’s cold, bony fingers gripping his shoulder or his wrist. Draco wanted to tear away from the man’s grasp as quickly as possible whenever it had happened. He’d always felt like the feeling of death emanated from the man’s skin. It made him feel horrid every single time. He couldn’t imagine what his mother might’ve been feeling now.

The Dark Lord released his mother and Draco watched as she made her way over to where Potter lay. She pulled up her robes slightly before she kneeled over him. Draco could see her reach out to him several times, and he saw her hover her head over him, before she stood, brushed off her robes and announced to everyone that Harry Potter was indeed dead.

With the confirmation of Potter’s death, Draco felt all the breath leave his body. It was truly over now. Now that Potter was dead, The Dark Lord was sure to go back to the castle and finish off the rest of the students and staff who were still fighting for the side of the Light.

 Draco took a few steps back, turned and started running back through the Forbidden Forest. He didn’t know what he was going to do exactly, but if The Dark Lord was on his way back to the castle; Draco could hide there, and attempt to grab his mother if he got the chance. After that, they’d apparate and get away from this whole mess.

*****

           

 

Harry stayed still and continued playing dead as Hagrid carried him through the forest back to the castle. It took a while, but once there, Harry felt Hagrid lay him gently on the ground. He could hear the sounds of the battle continuing. Curses and screams shot through the air and Harry could smell the thick scent of blood and burnt foliage from misdirected curses permeating the air.

Harry listened as Voldemort cast a charm that amplified his voice “Harry Potter is dead,” Voldemort roared. The amount of gasps and cries Harry could hear were almost deafening. Voldemort continued, “Now that he is dead, I believe it is obvious that your fight has been in vain. Those of you who wish to join me now, are free to do so. Otherwise, you will be killed. I will give you a few moments to think about it. Death Eaters, come to my side.”

There was a lot of shuffling as Harry assumed the Death Eaters that were still alive went over to Voldemort’s side. Harry peeked his eyes open as much as he felt he could without giving himself away. He could see many of his classmates gathered in front of the castle with the teachers who had stayed behind during the evacuation. He could just barely make out Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville in the very front. Ginny was sobbing into Ron’s shoulder. Ron rubbed his hand over Ginny’s back absently as he held hands with Hermione. Neville stood stoically, clutching the sorting hat.

Harry closed his eyes and subtly shook his wand down from his sleeve. Thank God Voldemort had been stupid enough to not bother checking personally to see if Harry was dead, and thank God he hadn’t asked Narcissa to take his wand.

Moments passed. “No one wants to join me?” Voldemort asked. There was no response. “No matter. Nagini?” Voldemort addressed his snake. “Feel free to have your dinner now. As you can see there is plenty of food to choose from.”

Harry opened his eyes and saw Nagini lunge straight for Neville. In an instant, Neville pulled The Sword of Gryffindor from the Sorting Hat and slashed Nagini’s head off clean from her body. Harry acted and pulled himself from the ground.

Voldemort hadn’t noticed Harry had gotten up from the ground. Harry pointed his wand in Voldemort’s direction. He cast a quick _expelliarmus_. Voldemort caught him just in time and deflected Harry’s disarming attempt. He wasted no time in casting a Killing Curse in Harry’s direction.

Harry cast his own Avada Kedavra at the same time. The two streams of green light flew through the air and met in the middle. Green sparks flew where the two spells met and the battles going on around Harry and Voldemort faded into the background. In that moment, no one but Harry and Voldemort existed. Harry pushed as much magic as he could through his wand and into the curse. Voldemort did the same. After a while, Harry saw Voldemort’s curse inching its way in his direction. It got so close, it touched Malfoy’s wand and Harry swore he could feel the tingly feeling of the Killing Curse shoot through Malfoy’s wand into his hand. He remembered how terrible the sensation felt from earlier and he resigned himself to making sure he never felt that pain running through his body ever again.

Harry focused on the magic that flowed through him. He didn’t know how he’d done it, but somehow, he gathered every inch of magic in his body and directed it so that it flowed through his arm, through his hand, and through Malfoy’s wand. A thick stream of green light emerged from the wand. It pushed back on Voldemort’s curse so quickly and forcefully, it knocked Voldemort off his feet. The curse hadn’t hit Voldemort though. Harry could see him drawing his wand, probably gearing up to cast another Killing Curse, but Harry managed to cast his own spell before Voldemort could even aim at him.

Harry cast a bloodletting spell, one that morticians used to drain the blood from dead bodies quickly and efficiently before they cremated or buried them. Harry’s spell hit its intended target. Harry heard a groan before Voldemort fell back onto the ground.   Harry ran over, careful not to step in the blood that pooled around Voldemort. He was sure the man was dead, but just in case, he pointed his wand at Voldemort and cast the Killing Curse again.  There was no reaction from Voldemort’s body. He had probably died before Harry had even reached him. 

Harry intently watched Voldemort’s body, he planned on standing guard until the aurors could reach him, but at that moment, Harry felt a surge of electricity shoot through him. He attempted to take several deep breaths, but he couldn’t manage to take in any air. He dropped to his knees and fell backwards. He closed his eyes and tried his hardest to breathe. _This is it. I’m really going to die this time_ , Harry thought. His eyes closed and he lost consciousness soon after.

*****

           

Draco sat in the Great Hall and watched as crowds of people went back and forth. He watched as countless aurors could be seen questioning the students and staff. An even higher number of mediwitches ran around attending to injuries. He glanced down the table he was occupying. There were plenty of aurors surrounding the table, but not a single mediwitch in sight.

Draco sat at the Slytherin table. He was flanked by his parents on both sides, and several aurors stood behind them. His mother held his hand tightly and his father ignored the both of them in favor of keeping to himself. Draco slumped his shoulders. He, his parents, and many other unarmed Death Eaters, sat in the Great Hall under the scrutiny of aurors and survivors of the Light.

The Dark Lord had fallen, and aurors swooped in. They had carted Potter off, and after making sure The Dark Lord was thoroughly dead, they’d carted his body off too. Draco surely hoped they’d set it on fire. Multiple times.

After sending The Dark Lord to the ministry, the remaining aurors assessed the battle grounds and guided everyone who was still alive into Hogwarts. They had quickly separated the Death Eaters and clear “Death Eater Sympathizers” like his mother away from those who fought for the Light. Draco hadn’t been successful in his endeavor to find his mother and flee away from the battle. Fortunately for him, Potter had defeated Voldemort and the aurors had found his parents for him.

While the Light side got all the medical help, Draco’s table got nothing but restraints and extra security. Draco was grateful that he and his mother weren’t badly hurt. By the looks of things, their injuries would probably have been ignored.

Draco placed his right hand over his mother’s. The magical cuffs around his wrists didn’t make it easy, but he tried his best to comfort her. He had no idea what the aurors would do with them after this. They’d already been questioned before they’d been sequestered into the Great Hall. He supposed a trip to the Ministry’s holding cells was next. He just wished they’d get on with it if that were the case. Sitting and waiting for punishment while everyone else celebrated a victory while simultaneously giving him and his parents a cursory glare every now and then was certainly not his definition of a good time.

Draco hadn’t personally seen Potter defeat The Dark Lord, nor had he’d seen the Ministry gather him up afterwards. He been told that Harry Potter saved the Wizarding World when the auror who’d questioned him, had so graciously gloated about how Draco’s “Master” was dead and how Draco had chosen the wrong side and he’d get what was coming to him. Draco had timidly asked what had happened to Potter. The auror had told him it was none of his business, but Draco came to find out that Potter had been taken to the hospital wing earlier when he’d been eavesdropping on a conversation between a few aurors that were watching over him and the other Death Eaters.

McGonagall stepped in front of the table at the front of the Great Hall. Draco watched as she called for everyone’s attention. “Everyone!” McGonagall held her hands together and said with a smile on her face, “You’ll be glad to hear, that Voldemort, has been defeated!”

Loud cheers filled the Great Hall. Several students and teachers stood and clapped, but a few even hopped onto the tables and shouted. The select few were Gryffindors. Gryffindors that were usually spotted near Potter’s side on the occasion. Draco rolled his eyes. He wasn’t surprised that the Gryffindors would be a little overzealous about their Boy Wonder finally defeating The Dark Lord. They lacked class most of the time anyway. It was a momentous occasion of course, but that didn’t mean that manners should have flown out of the window.

McGonagall instructed the students to settle down. “Yes, we are all very excited that Voldemort is gone. We will celebrate when the time is right, but I must not neglect to relay the names of those we lost tonight.”

McGonagall went on to name several students and staff members. Cries rang out when friends and family members were mentioned. Draco noticed that there were  only a few cries  from the Slytherin table when Crabbe and  Goyle were mentioned and it was quiet enough to hear a pen drop when Professor Snape’s was mentioned. Draco felt especially sorry for Snape. At least Crabbe and Goyle had their families to mourn their deaths, but Snape seemingly had no one. Draco knew the man had never been a particularly nice person, but at least he had tried to help Draco while he was attempting to carry out his mission. At least the man had been his voice of reason those many nights in Hogwarts when Draco wasn’t sure whether or not he should pitch himself off the Astronomy Tower in order to forget everything he was going through. Draco sighed. He felt sorry for the man, but he wouldn’t cry for the man, just like he hadn’t cried for anyone else.

Draco felt his mother squeeze his hand harder. He looked up to notice that her eyes had watered and a few tears streaked her face. He squeezed his mother’s hand harder in return. Draco looked to his father to gauge his reaction as well. Though his father wasn’t crying, his head was bowed and his eyes were closed. Draco had known that Snape and his father had been friends, at least while they were in Hogwarts, so it wasn’t odd that his father might mourn him.

Draco was hesitant, but he pulled his hand away from his mother’s and placed his right hand over his father’s and offered him quick comfort. It was nice to know the man was actually still human under his hateful façade. His father made a move to place his hand over Draco’s just as Draco had done to his mother before, but Draco removed his hand before he could. Draco placed his left hand back over his mother’s. He didn’t bother to look at his father’s reaction. Draco was willing to offer the man a little comfort, but he wasn’t about to receive any _from_ him. His father was lucky enough to receive even an ounce of comfort from him where Draco was concerned.

McGonagall continued naming names until at least thirty or forty names had been called. The somber mood of the Great Hall was almost palpable. She finished reading the names on the list, placed the list on the table behind her, and offered a moment of silence for the dead. Draco watched as most of the Great Hall’s occupants closed their eyes and bowed their heads as well. Draco bowed his head along with them, but he didn’t close his eyes. The last thing he wanted was to see the images of those who died flashing across his eyelids.

After the moment of silence, McGonagall spoke again, her tone filled with sorrow. “We will hold a memorial for all students and staff that have lost their lives. I do not know when we will hold the memorial, but I do know that it will be held here, once Hogwarts has been cleaned and put to rights.”

A student Draco had never noticed before stood up. “What about Harry? Is he dead too?”

“Harry Potter is not dead. He is recovering in the Hospital Wing, but I am not privy to say more than that.” McGonagall cleared her throat and continued her address. “If any student or staff member is injured, please report to the mediwitches you see around the room. If you are looking for a friend or family member that has not yet been accounted for, please refer to the various aurors posted in the corridor just outside of the Great Hall.

As of now, Hogwarts will be closed for the rest of the school year,” There were a few groans at that. “Students, when you are dismissed, please return to your dorms and pack your things to go home. Younger students and the students that chose not to stay behind have already begun their journey’s home. We will discuss returning to school at a later date, once everything has been settled. If you have any further questions to ask, please seek me out on a personal level. I will be in my office if you need me. You are dismissed. Your parents are already expecting you.”

With that, all the students clambered out of the Great Hall, led by uninjured staff members. Draco watched as they filed out in as much of an orderly manner as possible. He looked on and felt envious of the students whose only worries would probably be grieving now.  He wished he was one of the students leaving at this very moment and wished his parents were back at home at the Manor waiting to receive him. He looked down at his restraints, wishing as he had many times over that he had chosen a different path.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry’s eyes fluttered rapidly as he came to. Once he was fully conscious, Harry opened his eyes and noticed that he was lying in a bed staring straight up at a white ceiling. He squinted, wondering where he was. The room was filled with rows of beds with white curtains drawn around each of them. The Hospital Wing then.

Harry groaned as he attempted to pull himself up in to a sitting position. Madame Pomfrey came bustling over. She caught him under the armpits and helped him sit up the rest of the way. She fluffed up the pillows behind him and gently settled Harry back into them.

“Thank you Madame Pomfrey.”

Madame Pomfrey smiled. “It’s no problem dear. I’m glad to see that you’re finally awake. You’ve been in a coma for a while. Welcome back to the land of the living.”

Harry didn’t reply. He’d been in a coma? Harry was glad he was awake and clearly alive though. He hadn’t known if he was going to survive for a second time after he defeated Voldemort, but thankfully, his body seemed to be pretty stubborn. Death apparently wasn’t going to come easy to him.

Harry watched as Madame Pomfrey waved her wand over him. She scanned his body several times before she tucked her wand away inside her robe pocket, seemingly satisfied with the results.

“From what I can detect, you’re in pretty good shape Mr. Potter. Everything seems to be functioning properly. I’ve given you several potions to help with muscular atrophy, but potions can only do so much, so you’ll be feeling a little weak for the next few days due to being inactive for the past couple months. It’s nothing to worry about though. You should be in top shape in no time.”

“Thank you Madame Pomfrey.” Harry took in Madame Pomfrey’s words feeling pretty much unconcerned. He’d been in the Hospital Wing many, many, times over the past few years. If Madame Pomfrey said he would be fine, then of course he would be. “I can always count on you to put me back together.”

She swatted him lightly on the arm. “Of course. It’s my pleasure.”

Harry reached over to the bedside table, grabbed his glasses, and shoved them onto his face. Just as his vision cleared, Harry saw Ron and Hermione run up to his bedside. Before Harry could even get a word out, he had an armful of Hermione and a mouthful of hair. Harry squeezed Hermione tightly until she let go.

When Hermione pulled back, Ron hugged Harry too. “It’s good to see you’re awake mate,” he said and patted Harry firmly on the back.

Hermione nodded profusely, “We’re glad you’re finally awake Harry. We were worried. We weren’t sure if you were ever going to wake up”

“Hermione was the one who was worried. I told her you’d wake up when you were done sleeping. You had years of sleep to catch up on after having a million dreams of Voldemort,” Ron laughed.

Hermione elbowed Ron in the side. “Ron,” Hermione chastised.  “That’s not funny. Harry seriously could have died.”

Harry smiled. “It’s alright Hermione. I really did need to catch up on my beauty sleep.”

“Maybe you should go back to sleep then mate, ‘cause you’re not looking any better than you did before,” Ron joked.

They all laughed that time.

“So what happened?” Harry asked. “Did everything go well? Is Voldemort really dead?”

“Voldemort’s dead Harry,” Hermione explained. “You killed him. The Ministry took his body, examined it, and then cremated him. A few Death Eater’s managed to get away, but the aurors are working on finding them. All the other Death Eaters were captured and they been trialed already.”

“Azkaban’s pretty full at the moment,” Ron added.

Harry wondered how Malfoy had fared. Had they caught him and threw him in Azkaban just like the other Death Eaters? A part of him hoped he’d done what he said he was going to do and had fled with his mother. Harry didn’t want to think of the torture he might receive locked up in there, though it was better to think about than possible thoughts of Malfoy being dead. Harry wondered if his friends would ask questions if he suddenly asked them about Malfoy’s wellbeing, but he didn’t get the chance to think more about whether he should ask them or not before Madame Pomfrey came back into view.

Pomfrey asked Ron and Hermione to shuffle out of the way. She pulled up a stool from the side and sat down.

“Now that your friends have you a little caught up on what happened to Voldemort and the rest. I need to tell you about what happened to you Harry.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “What happened to me? There’s more than the coma?”

Pomfrey nodded. “After you defeated Voldemort, you fell unconscious. I had thought you’d just passed out due to the stress and perhaps a lack of sleep, but that wasn’t the case. You were unconscious for a while before I could figure out what had happened to you. I checked you for curses and charms, but there was nothing evident, however while I checked you over, I did noticed that your magical aura was glowing.”

“My magical aura?” Harry asked.

Hermione answered. “Every witch and wizard has one Harry. It’s essentially the magic inside of you. People who are sensitive to magic can usually feel the magic of another person if they stand near them. They can feel its presence.”

`Madame Pomfrey continued. “Ms. Granger is correct. Magic sensitive people can usually feel someone else’s power. The stronger the wizard, the more it can be felt. While the magical aura can be felt by those that are magic sensitive, it usually can’t be seen unless the wizard is extremely powerful, but when I performed magical diagnostic spells on you Harry, I could see your aura.”

“You could see it?”

“Yes. I could see it glowing around you. The thing is, I’ve diagnosed you many times before, but I’ve never seen it before. You had apparently become more powerful recently, but I didn’t know exactly when. I called in several mediwitches from St. Mungo’s, and we concluded that after you defeated Voldemort, some of his power transferred to you.”

“How?” Harry asked.

“You’ve always had a physical connection to Voldemort. Over time, that transformed into a magical connection as well. Since magic can neither be created nor destroyed, when Voldemort died, the magic needed to go somewhere, and the most logical place was to the person Voldemort shared a magical link with. You’re more powerful now, because Voldemort’s magic transferred to you. Certainly not all of it, but quite a bit of it. You fell unconscious because there was so much magic flowing through your body at the time, your body needed to adjust to your new power levels. Thus the coma. I’m assuming your body has adjusted to the extra power now since you’re awake.”

Harry thought for a moment. He’d defeated Voldemort, but still had some of him inside of him? Harry thought that defeating Voldemort would mean he’d no longer have to deal with him after years of having the man in his head, now he had his magic inside him. Could his luck get any worse? Harry needed clarification.

“So you’re saying that Voldemort’s dead, but now I’ve got his magic inside of me?”

Madame Pomfrey patted his hand and shook her head. “No Mr. Potter, that’s not how it works. Your magic and the magic that came from Voldemort are not two separate entities. It came from Voldemort, but the magic is yours now. Voldemort doesn’t exist anymore. It is no longer his.”

Harry wasn’t sure there was a difference. There was no doubt about it. Voldemort’s magic was inside of him. It may have combined with his own, but if it came from Voldemort it was still Voldemort’s. Harry didn’t know how he felt about that. He didn’t think it would be nice having Voldemort’s magic floating inside of him. The man had used his magic to kill and torture countless people. Harry shivered.

He pushed those thoughts away and focused on the rest of what Madame Pomfrey was saying. “As far as we know, having this extra power won’t harm you in any way. You’ll just be more powerful than you were before. It’ll be hard though. You’ll have to relearn how to use your wand and how to cast spells. With this new power you can easily put more power behind a spell when you’re casting even though you don’t intend to. It won’t be easy relearning how to control your magic, but I believe you’re capable Mr. Potter.”

“Do you feel any different mate?” Ron asked Harry.

Harry shook his head.

“Can you feel the extra power?” Pomfrey asked.

Once again, Harry shook his head no. He felt like the same old Harry, except for the throbbing headache that was beginning to build right behind his eyes. “I do have a headache though,” Harry said.

“I’ll get you a pain potion then, shall I?”

Harry nodded and watched as Madame Pomfrey padded over to the medicine cabinet.

“Are you sure you don’t feel any different? You don’t feel like anything’s odd or out of place?” Hermione asked.

“No. I feel fine,” Harry assured her.

“Well if you’re sure,” Hermione said as she gave his arm a squeeze.

Madame Pomfrey walked back over with Harry’s pain potion. She unstopped the bottle and handed it to Harry. Harry downed it. He made a face at the unpleasant aftertaste and handed the empty vial back to Madame Pomfrey. She took it and hurried away to assist another patient at the far end of the hospital wing.

Harry turned to Hermione and Ron. “How’s Ginny? She’s not here is she?”

“She’s fine,” Ron replied. “She’s at home with everyone. You can see her when school starts up again.”

“Speaking of school,” Hermione butt in. “McGonagall’s invited us all back Harry. Since we didn’t get to take NEWTs or anything, she’s offered all of the seventh years to return this school year. We’re officially going to attend Hogwarts as the first Eight years the school has ever had. It’s all very exciting isn’t?” Hermione placed a hand on Ron and Harry’s forearms. “It’s really great that you two can take NEWTs too!  You both should really start thinking about what you’re going to do after we graduate. We really don’t have a lot of time you know.”

Harry chuckled and watched Hermione rant on as Ron rolled his eyes. Leave it to Hermione to go on and on about school even though Harry literally just woke up from a coma.

“That’s great Hermione, but we can talk about school later, yeah?” Harry hated to have to break up Hermione’s cheery mood and ask a solemn question, but he needed to know. “Tell me about everyone else. We didn’t lose too many people during the battle did we?”

Hermione made a sad face and Ron looked down at the floor and bit his bottom lip. Harry almost regretted asking.

Hermione answered him. She told about the deaths of several students he didn’t recognize, some teachers including Snape, a few aurors that had come in to help, and lastly she told him that Fred had died as well.

Harry hadn’t expected that one. He thought for sure the Weasley’s would have all come through the war okay. He admitted that he hadn’t even really thought of the possibility that any of them could have died. He hadn’t dared think that his somewhat adoptive family would lose one of their own. He hadn’t even known they’d even been at Hogwarts during the battle.

Harry looked over to Ron who was still biting his lip and staring down at the floor. “That’s terrible. Fred was a great guy. He was brilliant.”

Ron looked up from the floor. Harry could see wetness in his eyes. “McGonagall held a memorial for everyone who died in the war. It was really nice. Really sad too. George set up some fireworks that spelled out the names of everyone who died. It was really great. It would have been nice if you’d been awake to see it.”

“I wish I had,” Harry said sadly. “I’m sure it was great.” Harry saw a tear slip from Ron’s eye. “I’m sorry you lost him Ron. I’m sorry for the rest of your family too.”

Ron shook his head and blinked rapidly. He wiped the tear away. “It’s okay. Everyone’s upset, but we’re getting on with our lives, you know? George has it the worst. He lost the person who knew him best. I can’t even begin to know how he feels.”

Hermione leaned into Ron and rubbed his back as he wiped away a few more tears. The three of them were silent for a few minutes after that.

“I really am glad you’re awake,” Ron said breaking the silence and effectively changing the subject. “Now things can get back to normal.”

“I don’t think I know what normal is,” Harry joked.

“We’ll figure it out, “Hermione said. “We should get going though. We don’t want to tire you out too much, since you’ve just woken up. I’m sure you’ve got a lot to think about too. We’ll go, but we’ll see you again soon, okay? “

“Alright,” Harry replied and watched as his best friends walked away, Hermione’s hand still rubbing circles on Ron’s back; her left hand grasping his arm. Harry started to feel the potion kick in and as he heard the Hospital Wing doors close he leaned back, closed his eyes, and sunk into a potion induced sleep.

*****

Several hours later, Harry woke up to Professor McGonagall at his bedside. Harry glanced around for his glasses and put them on before he sat up.

“Professor? How long have you been here? You could have woken me up.” 

McGonagall waved her hand, “Don’t worry Mr. Potter. I haven’t been here long. Madame Pomfrey told me you’d wake up again soon, so I thought I come and visit you. I saw no need to wake you before you finished resting.”

“Thanks Professor.”

 “I’m glad you’re awake Potter,” McGonagall said as she patted him on the hand. “You had us all worried for a while there.”

Harry smiled. This was the third time someone had told him they were happy he was awake. There wasn’t much more he had to say about it after the first time. 

McGonagall continued, “It’s great that you’re awake now though. You’re awake just in time to start the new school year. I’m sure Ms. Granger has told you about it already?”

Harry nodded. “She told me you invited last year’s seventh years to come back. She seemed to assume that I was going to come back too.”

“I strongly suggest that you do, Mr. Potter. You should finish your education if you have the opportunity to do so. It could mean a lot for your future. “

Harry was pretty sure his future was pretty much set at this point. He was Harry Potter, Vanquisher of Voldemort. That had to count for something. Whatever field Harry thought about entering, saving the Wizarding World would surely gain him a few brownie points, right? Harry nodded. “I know. I’m just not sure about coming back right now. I don’t even know what I want to do after I graduate.”

“That’s exactly why you should come back. The extra year will give you the time to figure out what you want to do, and when you do figure it out, you’ll already have the education to back it up”

“I suppose so,” Harry said. “I’ll definitely think about it. What about the Dursely’s? I don’t have to go back to them do I?”

“Of course not,” McGonagall told him. “Voldemort is dead. You no longer need the protection. You are free to stay here for as long as you wish.”

“Thank you.”

McGonagall changed the subject. “I’ve been told that Pomfrey has told you about your new magical addition?”

“Yes she told me.”

“And how do you feel about it?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t like it much, but there’s nothing I can do about it, right? Just like everything else in my life. “

McGonagall nodded. “Quite right,” she patted his hand again. “You’ll get used to it and you’ll adjust. You’ve come this far.”

Harry agreed. “Do you think it’ll be hard for me to control the magic?”

“Extremely,” McGonagall said honestly. Harry’s face fell. “It’ll be extremely difficult learning how to control something you’re not use to, but I have faith that you’ll be able to handle it Mr. Potter. You should have faith too.”

“I will.”

“Good.” McGonagall stood and straightened her robes. “If you ever need anything Mr. Potter, feel free to come to my office at any time. You’re always welcome.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, and Mr Potter?”

“Yes?”

McGonagall bowed her head slightly and said, “Thank you.” She turned and swept from the room.

*****

Draco dried his hands and pushed a hand through his hair before he left the bathroom. He made his way through the Manor’s halls and into the Dining Room, where Mother and Father waited for him.

“Good afternoon Mother,” Draco said cheerfully to Narcissa.

“Good afternoon Darling,” his Mother replied.

Draco pulled his chair from the table and sat down. He started to reach for the tea kettle at the center of the table before his mother stopped him.

“Don’t be rude, Dear.

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His mother knew he and his father weren’t on the best of terms, yet she insisted that they interact regardless. “Father,” Draco greeted Lucius curtly.

His father said nothing; he simply nodded politely and returned his attention the book he was reading.

A house elf popped into the room and sat a plate of sandwiches at the center of the table. Plates and napkins were set in front of each of them seconds later. As soon as the table was set, the house elf popped away just as quickly as it had come.

 Narcissa picked up the tea kettle and filled Draco’s teacup. Draco reached for a sandwich and placed it on his plate. He took a sip of the warm chamomile tea and enjoyed the sweetness that slid over his tongue.

“You’ve been owled another letter,” Narcissa said to Draco.

“Hmm.”.

“It was from Headmistress McGonagall. She was wondering why you’ve haven’t owled back to inform her that you’ll be returning to school,” Narcissa said before she took a sip of her own tea.

“You read my mail mother?” Draco asked as he raised an eyebrow.

“I did. But that’s beside the point Darling. Why haven’t you answered? You should go back to school.”

“Why should I?”

“To finish your schooling of course. You’ll need to if you’re planning on starting a decent career in the near future.”

“I’m not going back mother. Why would I? I don’t think a Death Eater would be welcomed there. Especially not one who got off scot free because their father had enough money to bribe the Ministry into turning a blind eye to their war crimes.”

“You’d rather be in Azkaban?” Lucius asked him.

Of course he wouldn’t have rather been in Azkaban. Draco was scared out of his wits during the Death Eater Trials, he’d thought for sure they lock him up and throw away the key, but Lucius had managed to let his money do the talking. He’d convinced  the Ministry into letting Draco and Narcissa off, by saying he’d forced them to go along with The Dark Lord’s plans, but only because he had been under the Imperius Curse at the time. Draco was sure no one really believed that, but Lucius’s connections to people of power won out in the end. Draco was grateful that he didn’t have to live the next few years having his soul sucked out of him by dementors, but he couldn’t help feeling guilty that he didn’t properly pay for his hand in the war. He deserved punishment. Who was his father to bribe the Ministry in order to make sure that didn’t happen?

Narcissa brought Draco’s thoughts back to the conversation. “You’re not a Death Eater anymore. Not now that Voldemort is dead. The Ministry knows that you didn’t want to become a Death Eater Draco. You know you weren’t in your right state of mind. You were practically pressured into it,” she said sparing a quick glance at Lucius. “Sometimes we do terrible things for the people we love. There’s no shame in that.”

Draco wasn’t entirely sure about that, but he nodded his head anyway.

Narcissa continued, “And no one has gotten off scot free,” she said as she reached out for Draco’s left arm and rubbed the bracelet that wrapped around his wrist. Draco looked at his mother’s wrist and noted the bracelet she wore. It was identical to his.

The jewelry was nondescript. It was a thin silver thing that clasped around Draco’s wrist. The ministry had placed him and his family on House Arrest as punishment for their crimes. He and his mother had been placed on House Arrest for the next three years. They were only allowed to go to Ministry approved places and the Manor. Lucius had been placed on complete House Arrest and was forbidden to leave the Manor at all. The Ministry wanted to see to it that the three of them had no contact with potential criminals. The bracelets kept them well monitored. Their whereabouts were logged twenty-four seven. If the ministry suspected that Draco or his mother had gone somewhere unsavory, the Ministry would send a few officials to the Manor as soon as possible for questioning. If it was found out that they’d been in contact with anyone or anything the Ministry did not approve of, the lot of them would be thrown in Azkaban, no questions asked.

Draco hated the thing. It was unobtrusive most of the time, but he could never take the damned thing off, and unfortunately for him, the Ministry didn’t approve of him and his mother going to most places. A simple walk through Diagon Alley caused the bracelet to glow white and uncomfortably warm against his wrist when he just happened to pass by a shop that might’ve been even a tad bit shady There were so many places Draco wasn’t allowed to go, he might as well not go out at all. It was beyond bothersome, but it was infinitely better than being in Azkaban.

“Still,” Draco said. “There’s no point in going back to finish school. Even if McGonagall’s nice enough to allow me back, I’m sure most people wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to hire an Ex-Death Eater. I’d be lucky if they’d allow me to do work fit for house elves somewhere.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” Narcissa said as she rubbed a thumb over Draco’s cheek; a quick show of affection.  “People will eventually look past you being a former Death Eater.”

“As if that would be easy to do,” Draco replied, glancing at the Dark Mark on his forearm.

Narcissa reached out and pulled the sleeve of Draco’s shirt down over the Mark. “People will look past that. Eventually. It will take time and a lot of understanding, but people will see past it. You’ve done many things during the war that I _know_ you weren’t proud of. I do not believe that your mistakes should lead to a lifetime of damnation. You should go to Hogwarts and show people that you’ve changed. For the better. This time around there’s no pressure from Voldemort, and no pressure from your father,” Narcissa tucked a lock of hair behind Draco’s ear. “Show them who Draco Malfoy really is. Someone will forgive you. I promise you.”

Draco knew that wasn’t his promise for his mother to make, but he really wished she was right. “I’ll think about it mother.”


	5. Chapter 5

Harry walked into Ollivander’s shop and stepped up to the counter. Harry tapped the little bell on the counter to alert the older man to his presence. Ollivander’s store looked to be in the same shape it had always been. Harry was thankful that it seemed as if Voldemort and the Death Eater’s had left Ollivander out of the war. Either that or the man had locked up and managed to hide away safely. Either way, Harry was happy that the man was still alive.

A few moments later, Ollivander hobbled out from one of the back rooms. “Ah! Mr. Potter!” Ollivander exclaimed as he reached out to shake Harry’s hand.

Harry returned the gesture. “It’s nice to see you sir.”

“And you as well. What brings you in today? Problem with your wand?”

Harry smiled and rubbed a hand over the back of his head, “Actually, there’s no problem with my wand. I guess the problem is that I don’t actually have a wand, sir.”

“You lost it?” Ollivander questioned.

“It broke.”

“I see. So you’ll be needing a new one then?”

Harry nodded.

Ollivander clapped his hands together, “Let’s see what we’ve got then,” he said and walked into the wand room and out of Harry’s sight.

Harry peered around the door jamb and watched as Ollivander grabbed a rolling ladder and pushed it towards the window. He climbed up several rungs before he reached above his head and pulled down a small box. He descended and walked back into the room with Harry.

“I think this one might suit you.”

Harry took the box from Ollivander and pulled out the wand. It warmed when he touched it. Harry could feel it vibrating softly under his fingers. He turned the wand in his hands a couple of times. It was nice to hold. Harry couldn’t explain why. It was a simple wand. There were no special engravings and there was no special handle. It was sleek, smooth, and brown. That’s all Harry could really say about it. The wand certainly wasn’t anything remarkable in regard to appearance, but Harry had a feeling it might be perfect for him,

“Try it out,“ Ollivander told him.

Harry was hesitant. He hadn’t done any magic in months. He’d been in his coma for the better part of three months and when he’d woken up he hadn’t needed to use magic. Having taken to the muggle way of doing most things, Harry couldn’t find a reason to do any magic, not to mention he only had Malfoy’s wand and he didn’t like the feeling that shot through him every time he’d touched it. It wasn’t a wand that was attuned to him anymore. It could have been the extra power that resided within him. Harry wasn’t sure. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t his wand anyway.

Harry held the wand in his hand properly and raised his arm to cast a spell. He thought a simple charm would be good enough to see if the wand was a match. “ _Lumos_ ,” he said and watched as the most brilliant light emitted from the end of the wand. When Harry normally cast a _lumos_ , the tip of his wand would glow a warm bright white, just bright enough to see things in the immediate vicinity. This time, the tip of the wand glowed so brightly Harry had to squint his eyes and look away. Not to mention that the heat from the light ran all the way down the wand to his hand. Harry dropped the wand immediately.

He reached down, touched the wand, and cast a _nox_. Once the wand was out, Harry picked it up and placed it back in the box.

“I don’t think that’s the one Mr. Ollivander.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” Ollivander replied. “I think it’s the perfect wand for you.”

Harry looked skeptical. “But I only cast a simple _lumos_. It was way too strong.”

Ollivander nodded in agreement. “It was very strong, yes. But that was because of the caster, not the wand. It was easy wasn’t it?”

“What was easy?”

“Casting that charm?”

It had been incredibly easy to cast the _lumos_. Harry usually had to concentrate at least a little on the simple spell before his wand lit up. He usually found himself thinking about wanting his wand to light up right before he cast the charm, but this time, Harry hadn’t even noticed that all he’d done was say the word _lumos_ and his wand lit up like fire. Not a single thought had run through his mind.

“It _was_ easy,” Harry said.

“How did it feel?”

“It felt-” Harry picked up the wand from the box. “It felt good. Like I could feel the connection between the wand and me.”

“I think you’ll find that that’s your wand then,” Ollivander told him. “I figured it would be perfect for you.” Ollivander reached out and took the wand from Harry. He held it delicately. One hand at the tip, and the other at the base. “It has a phoenix core, which I’m sure you’re used to,” he said as he raised his eyebrows. “As for the wood? Cypress. I haven’t matched a cypress wand to many wizards. It’s usually matched to one who is fated to die a heroic death.”

Harry tensed.

“No worries Mr. Potter. It’s not usually taken so literally. These days, a cypress wand is usually matched to someone who’s brave and selfless, and would, if it ever came down to it, be willing to sacrifice themselves for others. It actually sounds like it’s a wand well suited for you, Mr. Potter. “Ollivander held the wand out to Harry with the handle pointed in Harry’s direction.

Fated to die a heroic death? Little did Ollivander know that Harry had already done that. He’d gone out, and he’d sacrificed his life to Voldemort and he had lived to tell the tale, though he wasn’t actually planning on telling anyone about it any time soon. Harry silently agreed that the wand was perfect for him.

“How much for the wand?”

Ollivander waved his hands. “Don’t worry about it. For you? It’s free of charge.”

Harry took out his bag of coins. “No. I couldn’t do that Sir. How much?”

“Now, now. Put that away. It’s my pleasure to offer a wand to you for free. You’ve done so much for everyone Mr. Potter, it’s the least I can do for you.”

Harry didn’t argue. He thanked Ollivander and stepped out of the shop into the brightly lit streets of Diagon Alley. Harry tucked his wand into his robe pocket. His fingers brushed over the one that was already there. He pulled it out and held it in both his hands. It gave him that uncomfortable feeling he had thought about before. It almost gave him goosebumps. He tucked it back into his pocket. He should return it to Malfoy. He was sure he missed his wand. He could give it back now he had his own. And he could find out how Malfoy was doing too.

Harry pushed all thoughts of returning Malfoy’s wand to the back of his mind. He’d promised earlier that he’d meet Ginny for lunch after he’d picked out a new wand.

Harry reached the destination where he’d agreed to meet Ginny. He looked around, but didn’t see her. Ginny must’ve been running late as she usually was. Harry sat down at a nearby bench and tapped the wands in his pocket through his robe. He wondered what Malfoy was up to. No one had told him what had happened to him. He been told that the Death Eaters had been captured and the ministry was looking for the remaining Death Eaters that were on the loose, but no one had told him which category Malfoy fell into.  Was he in prison right now? If he was, how long was his sentence?

“Harry!” Ginny called out and broke Harry away from his thoughts.

Ginny went running up to Harry and threw her arms around him. Harry smiled and hugged her back. Though he missed her, he didn’t hug her too tightly or for too long. It seemed like she had bathed in perfume that day and the smell of it made Harry nauseous.

Once Harry let go, he placed his hands in his pockets. When they met up, Ginny was usually quick to grab one of Harry’s hands and spend the whole day holding it and swinging their arms, but Harry found that he wasn’t in the mood for that today.

Ginny looked down at Harry’s hands in his pockets. She looked a little put, but then she shook her head slightly and smiled at him. “What would like to get for lunch Harry?”

He shrugged. “I had a big breakfast. I’m not really hungry.”

Ginny nodded. “That’s okay. I’m not really hungry either. How about we go for ice cream?”

Harry liked the sound of ice cream. He hadn’t had any in a while. He’d always been known to have quite a bit of a sweet tooth, but never got to indulge in sweets as much as he would have liked. Especially in the last year out horcrux hunting with Ron and Hermione. Food had been hard to come by, and Hermione had only packed a lot of food and water in her backpack along with necessary potions and essentials that Ron and Harry hadn’t even bothered to even think about bringing. Harry could hardly have asked her to pack dessert too.

Harry and Ginny walked slowly through Diagon Alley. Ginny hummed quietly to herself as they passed shop after shop. Harry walked alongside Ginny peacefully. He was grateful that Ginny had come out to see him. He really liked her company. Seeing Ginny was always a breath of fresh air away from Hermione and Ron. He loved his friends, he really did, but Hermione could be a bit nosey sometimes and Ron could be a bit too stubborn too. Harry enjoyed spending time with Ginny when he needed a nice change of pace.

Harry glanced over at Ginny. It was the middle of fall and the wind was blowing through her red hair. She had a thin orange scarf wrapped loosely around her neck. Harry smiled to himself. He wondered if she knew how horribly it clashed with her hair. Scratch that. Ginny probably knew exactly how it looked, but she probably didn’t care. What difference did it make to her what other people thought of her appearance?

Speaking of appearance, Harry noted that Ginny was looking a little paler than usual and she had bags under her eyes. Maybe she hadn’t been sleeping well recently. It wasn’t odd since she’d lost her brother. Harry remembered countless sleepness nights when Sirius had died.

Harry looked down at Ginny’s hand. He thought about reaching out and giving it comforting squeeze. He would’ve liked to offer that to her. She probably could have used the friendly gesture, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to reach out to her. Harry didn’t want her to take it as anything more than a sign of comfort and didn’t want to risk Ginny misinterpreting his motives.

Before he’d gone looking for the last horcruxes, Harry had met Ginny in the castle quite a few times. They met and played quidditch, ate lunch together, talked and explored the Room of Hidden Things for hours, and sometimes they took quiet walks around the grounds of Hogwarts. All things that may have seemed like dating when it was between a man and a woman, but Harry had no plans of ever dating Ginny Weasley.

Ginny had kissed Harry on the cheek a couple of times, had laid her head on his shoulder whenever she wanted, and had taken to holding Harry’s hand whenever she got the chance. They had somehow fallen into a relationship where Ginny felt it was okay to do couple like things with him.  Harry had done nothing to stop it though. Having Ginny be so clearly romantically interested in him felt good. It was nice to know that she cared about him on a level deeper than friendship. Harry felt like it was important to have someone on his side, other than Ron and Hermione, who’d be waiting for him to come back. It had seemed important then. That he had someone to come home to. It was that thought that kept him motivated enough to make sure he survived before the final battle had come around, but now that everything was okay, now _he_ was okay. Harry started to feel more and more like he was leading Ginny on.   

Once they reached Fortescue’s they went up to the counter and ordered their ice cream. Two scoops of chocolate raspberry for Harry and salted caramel for Ginny. Once the cones were handed over, Harry attempted to pay, but like Ollivander, the petite woman at the counter refused his money. Once again telling him it was “on the house.” Harry simply nodded and walked over to a booth in the back of the room and sat down with Ginny.

Harry wondered if his life was going to be like this from now on. Would people continuously offer him free things wherever he went from here on out? When Harry first came to the wizarding world, he’d received a lot of attention for supposedly defeating Voldemort the first time around, but he was never offered anything for free. Not soon after, rumors of his escapades at Hogwarts, regardless of whether or not they were true, had flown around via the Daily Prophet and people stopped treating him like the hero they previously thought he was. Would they go back to putting him on a pedestal now he truly _was_ the Vanquisher of Evil? Harry hoped not. He’d frankly had enough attention- positive or negative- over the past seven years.

“So how have you been?” Ginny asked him after she bit off a small piece of her ice cream scoop.

“I’ve been good,” Harry replied. “As good as I can be for someone who just woke up from a coma anyway. How have you been?”

Ginny smiled, but she didn’t seem entirely happy. “I’ve been alright. Things could be better. I was worried about you for the longest time and I’m trying to cope with Fred not being here. Mum’s taking it the worst. I’ve been spending a lot of time with her, trying to cheer her up. It’s working a little bit I think.”

Harry looked at Ginny sadly. He knew how he felt when he’d lost Sirius and he hadn’t even known the man for that long. He couldn’t imagine how the Weasley’s were feeling.

“I’m sorry about Fred Ginny.”

Ginny shook her head. “Don’t be. I’ve heard enough “sorrys” the past few months.

After a few silent moments, Ginny changed the subject. “Are you planning on returning for eighth year?’

“I am. Hermione already talked me into it. I don’t know what I’m going to do after I graduate, but at least I can finish school. I’ll figure it all out later I guess.”

“Of course you will Harry. There’s plenty of time.” Ginny looked out of the window. “We should hang out a lot more when we go back to school. More than we used to I mean,” Ginny said still looking out the window.

Harry looked out the window too. There were many people passing by. Diagon Alley was fairly crowded even though it was just past noon. Harry could see a couple on a bench across the street. They held hands as the man bent down and whispered something into the woman’s ear. She giggled at whatever it was and swatted him on the shoulder. He looked back at Ginny. He wondered if she was watching them too. She’d asked if they could hang out more. Did she mean like the witch and the wizard on the bench?

Harry wasn’t sure what he should say. Ginny certainly hadn’t asked him for anything more than friendship, but if he read into it he could believe that maybe she was asking without actually asking. Harry tore a few bits away from the napkin wrapped around his ice cream cone. “I don’t know Ginny. It might be a little-“

“Do you like me Harry?” Ginny interrupted him.

“Of course I do.”

“Do you _really_ like me Harry? I don’t mean as a friend.”

Harry should have been honest. It was stupid not to be, but he didn’t want to lose their friendship if he was. It was probably even more stupid to outright lie though. Harry shrugged.

“Do you think you could?”

Harry knew he was gay and only had eyes for a certain grey-eyed blond at the moment, but again he shrugged. Ginny deflated right before his eyes. Harry could never see Ginny as anything more than a friend, but he really, really didn’t want to tell her that. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She was already reeling from Fred’s death, and Harry didn’t want to make her feel any worse with the death of the potential relationship she probably thought they had.

“We should definitely try to hang out more once we get back to school Ginny,” _As friends_ , Harry should have added, but didn’t. “I can’t promise you anything though, okay?” Harry felt a pang of guilt for giving Ginny false hope, but he could deal with the guilt if it cheered Ginny up.

Ginny smiled sweetly. She reached out and took Harry’s hand. She caressed his hand with her thumb and Harry was proud of himself for not tensing up. He let her continue for a few seconds before he drew away and broke off a piece of his waffle cone. He chewed it slowly hoping his attempt at getting away from her had been subtle enough, but if the look on Ginny’s face was any indication, he had tried and failed.

“Do you know what happened to Malfoy?” Harry asked, simultaneously trying to attract Ginny’s attention elsewhere and dig for information on Malfoy.

Ginny looked taken aback at Harry’s sudden interest in Malfoy but she answered anyway. “Malfoy’s entire family managed to evade imprisonment even after all the Death Eater Activities they were involved in. “

“How did they manage that?” Harry asked. Harry was glad Malfoy and his mother weren’t in prison, but that was the exact place Lucius Malfoy should have been.  “I know Malfoy’s mum wasn’t a Death Eater, but the Dark Mark should have been enough to put Malfoy and his father in Azkaban,” Harry said. He didn’t want to single out Lucius alone.

Ginny chuckled. “You’d think so, right? But Lucius Malfoy has money. He paid off the ministry of course.”

Harry nodded.  This was good. If Malfoy was at home he could return his wand as soon as possible. “Do they still live in the Manor?”

“As far as I know.”

 Harry dropped that line of conversation and resigned himself to return Malfoy’s wand in the next few days. For the rest of their time together, Ginny and Harry talked about trivial things. Soon enough it was time for Ginny to go back home. They cleaned they’re hands and dropped their napkins in the dust bin. Outside of Fortescues’s, Ginny hugged Harry and told him she’d see him at school. Harry told her the same and watched as she walked away. When she was no longer in sight, Harry high tailed it back to the castle. He had a letter to write to Narcissa Malfoy. He had a visit to make.

****

Harry stepped through the floo at Malfoy manor. After a few letters of correspondence, Harry had managed to talk Narcissa Malfoy into allowing him to visit. She even agreed to his insistence that she allow him to travel to the Manor via the floo network. Harry hadn’t cast too many spells since he got his new wand, but the last thing he wanted to do was find out what might happen if he attempted what probably be an overpowered apparition.

Harry bent over and dusted the soot from his robes. He bent down even further and dusted the soot from his trainers as well. A pair of black heels stepped into his field of vision. Harry looked up. Narcissa Malfoy stood in front of him, a welcoming smile on her face.

“Hello Mr. Potter. Welcome to my home.”

Harry stood up properly and smiled back. “Hello Mrs. Malfoy. Thank you for inviting me.”

“You’re welcome. Have a seat,” she said gesturing to a couch. “I’ll find Draco and tell him you wish to speak with him.”

“Um, actually, Mrs. Malfoy?” Harry reached out to grab Mrs. Malfoy’s arm before she left, but thought better of it since they weren’t familiar, and placed his arm back down by his side. “I’d actually like to talk to you first.”

Mrs. Malfoy placed a hand over her chest. “Me?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t tell him to take a seat this time. She stayed standing and widened her eyes as if to say “Go on. I’m listening.”

Harry cleared his throat. He’d never had a real conversation with Mrs. Malfoy before. On the battlefield had been the first time they’d ever exchanged words. Mrs. Malfoy stared at him with rapt attention. Harry fidgeted. Her gaze was making him nervous. “I just wanted to say thank you. For not telling Voldemort that I was still alive.”

“No need. I didn’t do it for you,” she replied curtly.

Her face was blank. Harry couldn’t begin to know what she was thinking.

“I did it for my son,” she continued. “I needed to know he was safe.”

“Even still. You didn’t know whether or not I was lying to you. And even after I told you Malf-,” Harry caught himself. “Draco, was safe, you still could have told Voldemort I wasn’t dead, but you didn’t.”

Mrs. Malfoy said nothing and her facial expression didn’t change.

“Regardless of why you did it, you gave me a fighting chance. Thanks to you, I’m alive and I managed to kill Voldemort. If I hadn’t survived, Voldemort would have killed way more people than he already had. You saved my life and saved others as a result. I’m really thankful for that.” Harry held out his hand to her.

Mrs. Malfoy drew in a breath and let it out. She took Harry’s hand in both of her’s. “You’re very welcome Mr. Potter.”

She dropped Harry’s hand and went to leave the room. “Have a seat. I’ll go and fetch Draco.”

*****

Draco lay on his bed. He flipped through the pages of a book on the history of flying spells and how they were created. It was utterly boring, but Draco found the pictures of the first brooms wizards ever invented to be fairly interesting. He looked at the last few pages, disappointed there were no more pictures to look at and slammed the book closed.

He sat up and grabbed the pile of books on his nightstand and left his room to trek to the library. He’d probably read most of the books there in the last few months. There wasn’t much he could do now that there weren’t many places he could go, so he spent most of his time in the Manor working his way through the Malfoy Library. Most of the Manor’s books were dry and uninteresting, but maybe he’d get lucky and pick a good read this time.

Draco pushed open the doors to the library and stepped in. He immediately spotted his father in an armchair near the window, his attention on his own book. Draco didn’t want to be anywhere near his father at the moment. He thought about leaving and returning another time, but he’d brought the stack of books from his room all the way here and it would be a hassle to pack them back to his room and back down to the library. He decided to stay. Ignoring his father was the best plan of action.

Draco sat the books in his hands on a small table nearby. The house elves would put them back in their proper places later. He stepped closer to a shelf and pulled the first book he saw. He didn’t stop to read the title or wonder what it was about. He wanted to get in and out as soon as possible. He reached up to grab another book when he felt his father’s hand on his shoulder.

The sudden invasion of his personal space startled Draco and he dropped the book in his hand. He pulled away from his father’s grasp. “Don’t touch me.”

Lucius pulled his hand away. “You can’t hate me for the rest of your life Draco.”

“I’ll certainly try,” Draco said as he turned around and attempted to step past his father.

Lucius stepped in front of Draco, blocking his path. He took a deep breath and looked at Draco sternly. “I did my best Draco. I kept you out of prison. You should be grateful.”

Draco scoffed. “Should I be grateful for having a father who spent most of his life bowing and scraping to a maniac who was hell-bent on ruling and destroying the entire wizarding world? Should I be grateful that you dragged me into it too, Father?”

“I did not force you become a Death Eater. That was your decision.”

Draco scoffed again. “As if I really had a choice! I did it to appease you. You never gave me the time of day until I became a Death Eater. You were always too busy licking Voldemort’s fucking boots!”

Lucius glared at Draco. “You will not speak to me in that manner. I am still your father. You will treat me with respect, no matter how you feel about me.”

Draco nodded. “I used to respect you. When I was younger, I looked up to you and believed every word you ever said. But that was before I realized you’d been brainwashing me all these years to believe in the same blood purity crap you and Voldemort’s other ridiculous followers believed in. And I believed it too. Before I got to see just how much hatred you and that power hungry psychopath were steeped in.

What did you get out of following behind Voldemort? Hmm? Power? Well look where you are now. Confined to this house with no friends, no job, you barely have a family. You’re lucky the ministry didn’t take our money or the Manor away from us. Otherwise you’d have nothing.”

Lucius blinked slowly and stepped out of Draco’s way. Draco watched the man go back go over to his chair and sit down looking thoroughly chastised. Lucius grabbed his cane. Held it in both hands and squeezed it tightly. He sat up straight. “Draco-“ he started, but a knock at the door interrupted whatever he was going to say.

Narcissa poked her head around the door. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No Mother. You’re not,” Draco replied.

Narcissa looked between the two of them. Draco wondered if she could sense the tension between them. She glanced at Lucius one last time before focusing on Draco. “You have a guest in the drawing room.”

“Thank you Mother.”

Narcissa nodded and left the room. Draco made a mental note to come back later to get a book. Hopefully his father wouldn’t still be here when he returned. He left the room without a glance in his father’s direction. He shut the door smoothly behind him.

Draco made his way to the drawing room wondering who’d come to visit him. No one had come to the manor in the past couple of months besides Blaise and Pansy. He’d just seen them a few days ago. They didn’t normally come back for a visit after just having had one.

When he reached the Drawing Room, the door was wide open. From the doorway, he could see a man sitting in the chair facing away from the door. Most people who visited the Manor had the habit of sitting facing the door. Seemingly so they could see what was happening and wouldn’t be taken by surprise. What with there being two former Death Eaters in the house. Draco thought it was very bold of the man to sit the way he was. He was apparently unafraid of the Malfoy family. Who could be so trusting?

Draco entered the room fully. He managed to place the man before he saw his face completely. It was none other than Harry Potter. Close up, the dark messy hair and less than fashionable eyeglasses were a dead giveaway.

“Potter?” Draco questioned. The last he’d heard, Potter was in a coma back at Hogwarts. The last time Draco had read the paper, he was still unconscious and the mediwitches were unsure of whether he’d wake up or not. Yet here he was standing in Draco’s home.

“Malfoy,” Potter greeted.

“Why are you here? I never thought I see you again. Ever,” Draco emphasized.

Potter reached into his pocket and Draco couldn’t help himself. He flinched.

Potter laughed. “You didn’t think I was going to hurt you, did you?”

“I don’t know what you might do. I don’t know you well enough to know. I never expected I see you back in the Manor again and yet, here you are.”

Potter didn’t respond. He reached in his pocket again and pulled Draco’s wand out. He pointed it in Draco’s direction and once again Draco flinched.

“I didn’t come here to hurt you, Malfoy,” Potter said and flipped the wand around so that the handle faced Draco instead of the tip. “I came here to return this to you.”

Draco looked down at his wand in Potter’s hand. Potter was grasping it lightly and gesturing with it in Draco’s direction, urging him to take it. “Why return it now?”

“I don’t need it anymore, but I thought you might.”

Draco thought about his mother’s wand he’d been using. The Ministry had allowed his mother to keep her wand since the bracelets they wore also had the capability to monitor any magic done by the wearer. Though it was her wand, his mother had given it back to him to use, stating that he’d need it more than her. It worked well enough, but definitely wasn’t fit for him. He’d fare much better using his own wand and he could finally give his mother back her’s.

Draco reached out and grabbed the handle of his wand. The second his fingertips made contact, Draco recoiled from it. He couldn’t describe it, but when he touched it, it had felt _weird_. There was really no other word for it. When holding a wand, one usually didn’t feel anything. A slight buzz sometimes, but that was only when the person holding it possessed a great deal of power. Usually it was like holding or touching any other inanimate object, but Draco’s wand had just felt really uncomfortable to the touch.

“What did you do to it Potter?”

Potter waved his hands back and forth. “I didn’t do anything to it. But it’s felt weird for a while now. I thought it was just me, because it wasn’t my wand, but you feel it too?”

Draco took the wand from Potter’s hand. It still felt weird. It almost made him shiver. He turned it over and over in his hands. Thankfully, the longer he held it, the less strange it felt. After a minute or so, the wand didn’t feel off at all. Draco examined it once more and cast a quick _lumos_. The charm worked as it should have, illuminating the tip of Draco’s wand. The wand felt just as normal as it ever had. Draco shrugged. Perhaps the wand just felt strange due to the change in loyalties. Wands were known to act strange at times.

Draco looked up at Potter. Potter wasn’t looking at him. He was oddly focused on the light that was still shining from Draco’s wand.

“ _Nox_ ,” Draco said, casting the counter charm. The light went out and Potter finally drew his eyes away from Draco’s wand.

Draco and Potter stood in silence for a few moments. Draco placed his wand in his pocket and waited for Potter to say something.

Eventually he said, “It’s good to see you’re not in Azkaban.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Oh please Potter. I’m sure you’re quite disappointed I’m here in the Manor and not rotting away in that hellhole.”

Potter shook his head. “No. I think it’s a good thing that you’re not there. I’m sure you wouldn’t have lasted long.”

Draco crossed his arms across his chest, offended. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. It’s just that,” color rose in Potter’s cheeks. “Near the end if the war, it didn’t look like you were handling things well. I can’t imagine what Azkaban would have been like for you.”

Draco wasn’t sure if Potter was patronizing him or not. How dare he presume to know anything at all about what Draco could and could not have handled. It seemed to Draco like Potter was indirectly calling him a coward. It’s not like it wasn’t true, but Draco surely didn’t want brave, rush-into-life-or-death-situations, I-don’t-give-a-fuck-if-I-die, Gryffindor, Potter in his house calling him a coward and lording it over Draco like he was better than him.

“Don’t pretend like you care about me,” Draco said irately. “You wouldn’t even spit on me if I was on fire.”

“You’re right. I’d actually save you from that fire,” Potter responded.

“Fuck you and your savior complex Potter!” Draco screamed. He was breathing heavier now. Potter always did know how to infuriate him to no end.

Potter took a step back. “Calm down Malfoy,” he said firmly. “I didn’t mean anything by it.

And just like that, Draco felt a warm sensation wash over him. He felt a little drowsy, and in his drowsy state, Draco swore he could hear a voice in his head telling him to calm down. Suddenly, Draco felt himself feeling extremely calm. The warm blanket feeling wrapped around Draco’s body dissipated after what could only have been a few seconds. Draco blinked rapidly and focused on Potter.

Draco watched as Potter looked at him strangely. “Potter?”

He looked Draco up and down.  “Are you feeling alright Malfoy?”

“I’m fine Potter.”

“What happened?”

Draco squinted. What was Potter playing at? He’d practically called him a coward and expected Draco not get upset about it?  “You pissed me off Potter. That’s what happened.”

“Yeah, but what happened after that? One minute you were screaming at me, and the next you were so calm. Why?”

Draco thought for a moment. He _had_ been upset a second ago, but he was pretty calm now. How had that happened? Draco closed his eyes and sighed. “I don’t know Potter. Mood swing? Your presence is terribly stressing”

Potter ignored the insult, “Are you planning on going back to Hogwarts?”

“No,” Draco said curtly.

“You should go. You should finish your education.”

Draco rolled his eyes. How many times would Potter make him do that in the span of a single conversation? “What are you my mother?”

“I just think it would be a good idea to go back. You should think about it,” Potter said as he stepped over to the fireplace. “I’m leaving,” he said over his shoulder and flooed back to wherever he’d come from.

Draco rolled his eyes once more at Potter’s abrupt departure. He rubbed his fingertips in circles over his temples. He could feel the faint traces of a headache coming on. Leave it to Potter to get on his nerves enough to make his head physically hurt. Draco left the Drawing Room and trekked his way to his bedroom. A pain potion and a nap sounded great right about now.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry stepped out of the floo and into McGonagall’s office. Thankfully, the headmistress wasn’t there. Harry didn’t want to have to answer any questions about his visit to Malfoy Manor. 

Harry made his way down the spiral steps. Once at the bottom, he quickly went in the direction of Gryffindor tower. On the way there, Harry started to think about what happened back at the manor.

Before he’d flooed there, he’d thought that being back in Malfoy’s house might make him uncomfortable, given that he’d be locked up there and Hermione had been tortured there. Upon stepping out of the fireplace though, Harry had felt completely at ease. He hadn’t felt nervous or unsure in the slightest. Perhaps knowing Voldemort was no longer an issue, led to his comfortableness. Harry had never been afraid or intimidated by any of the Malfoys, so there was no surprise there that he hadn’t felt uneasy in the presence of their home or company.

What had made him uneasy though was Malfoy. Harry didn’t know what to expect when he saw Malfoy again, but he hadn’t expected him to look so _good_. The war apparently hadn’t taken too much of a toll on him. He appeared to be the same Malfoy Harry had always known.

When he’d arrived, Harry had had no intention of riling Malfoy up, but he had unfortunately. Harry had known Malfoy was quick to temper, so that wasn’t a problem. No the problem was Malfoy’s quick change in moods. Harry had told Malfoy to calm down the minute he’d gotten angry, but Malfoy, who’d never been one for listening to Harry, had actually done it almost impossibly quickly.

When Harry had told Malfoy to calm down, Harry watched as Malfoy’s facial expression shifted. His face had gone blank and his eyes seemed to focus on nothing in particular, and then his eyelids fell. Harry thought Malfoy might’ve fallen asleep on him while he was standing up. After a few seconds, Malfoy had blinked and seemed perfectly fine again. Even stranger was that Malfoy seemed to have no recollection of it.

While Harry thought about his earlier encounter with Malfoy, his thoughts went back to several months ago when he’d saved Malfoy from the fire in the Room of Requirement. He had been away now, for a couple of weeks, but he hadn’t thought about asking what had happened to it, nor had he’d gone back to personally see.

\Harry made a detour on the way to Gryffindor Tower and went towards the Room of Requirement instead. Now was as good a time as ever to see what had become of the place.

Once Harry reached the seventh floor corridor, he sped up and ran the rest of the way. He reached the spot where the Room of Requirement was, surprised that the doors he’d remembered seeing the night of the fire were still there. Had the room not disappeared after the fire?

Harry put his hand on the doorknob and stopped. Had the room been cleaned? There wasn’t a possibility that Crabbe and Goyle’s bodies were still in the room? The last thing Harry wanted to see was the dead bodies of his schoolmates. He’d seen enough of those on the night of the Battle of Hogwarts.

There was no way they could still be there. Surely when Hogwarts was being repaired someone would have come up and looked inside the room? Yes, definitely. Lots of people knew about the room. Someone would have eventually went into it to inspect if there had been any damage done during the war. McGonagall probably checked personally.

Harry took a deep breath and turned the knob. He peered around the door and once he saw the inside of the room, he stepped in completely. He was quite surprised. Harry hadn’t known what he’d expected upon seeing the room, but he certainly hadn’t expected the room to be completely empty. The room Harry was presented with was about as large as one of the dorm rooms, the floor was dark gray stone, and several windows at the back of the room let sunlight into the room, but there was absolutely nothing else there. The room was clean too. Harry would have never have believed fiendfyre had wreaked havoc in the room if he hadn’t been there to see it.

Harry left the room and stood in front of the doors in the corridor. He paced back and forth in front of them, thinking randomly about needing to study. After three paces, Harry opened one of the doors and looked in. Nothing. He closed the door and tried again. This time he thought of needing a place to sleep. After three paces, he opened the door once more, hoping to see a bed or at least a sleeping bag or something, but there was nothing there.

Harry walked back into the room and shut the door behind him. As far as he could tell, the room was broken. Who knew why. Maybe the fiendfyre had destroyed it and it would never work again. Harry shrugged. He had quite liked the Room of Requirement. It had been very useful to him on more than one occasion. He’d hidden things here and used the room to help Dumbledore’s Army; he’d even hid here on the occasion when he’d wanted to get away from the stressors that came along with being Harry Potter. Losing the room was a great loss. One he’d probably feel for a while.

Presumably with no magic running through it, The Room of Requirement was officially just like any other room now. Harry pulled his wand from his pocket. He spun it around his fingers. Even though he couldn’t use the room to the best of its former ability, Harry supposed this might be a good place for him to practice using his wand away from prying eyes. The school year would start soon and he certainly didn’t want to be in the dorms having everyone watch him practicing doing his magic like a little first year.

Harry locked the door to the room. He’d gotten the hang of a few spells, but surprisingly, it was some of the easiest spells that were giving him the most trouble. Harry thought about the _lumos_ he’s first cast in Ollivander’s. He’d tried several times already and still couldn’t manage to get it right. No matter what he did, he couldn’t stop putting too much power behind it. He thought back to when he’d seen Malfoy cast it at the Manor. Malfoy hadn’t used his own wand in ages and he’d managed to cast it perfectly. Harry had watched Malfoy in awe and in envy. If only he too could manage such an easy charm.

Harry held his wand properly. “ _Lumos_ ,” he chanted as he performed the telling looping motion of a _lumos_. Just like at Ollivander’s, Harry’s wand lit up too much and the sudden heat made him drop his wand. Harry gingerly touched a finger to his wand and uttered the counter charm. “ _Nox_.”

Harry picked his wand up from the floor. It seemed a _lumos_ was going to be above his capabilities for the time being. Harry thought of another spell he could try out. So far he’d only been casting spells more suitable for first, second, and maybe even third years. He hadn’t thought about doing anything more advanced than that, especially since he wasn’t able to get even some of the easiest one right. He hadn’t really thought about trying out a harder spell until now.

Harry held up his wand. He closed his eyes and conjured up a happy memory and swirled his wand around in circles. When he thought he’d put just enough focus into his memory, he opened his eyes and cast an _Expecto Patronum_.

It worked. Harry watched as his stag patronus darted from his wand and ran out towards the windows of the room. Before Harry could think about anything else, a second stag also darted from his wand. Harry watched in awe as the stags circled the room, looking for dementors. When they sensed none, they trotted over to Harry and looked up at him expectantly.

“I was just practicing,” Harry told them. He reached out both hands and pet them both before they disappeared into wisps of smoke.

Harry smiled. At least there was clearly some good in having this extra power Voldemort had passed to him. He may not be able to cast some spells properly just yet, but Harry could see the usefulness in having more power behind certain spells. Harry had been upset that he was having trouble casting so many different spells, but it seemed that there was a silver lining to most things after all. Harry would just have to practice as much as he could to get everything right.

*****

           

Draco sat at the Slytherin table, watching as the sorting hat was placed on the small first years heads. He placed his chin in his hand and remembered when he’d been that young. He had been excited to finally learn some magic other than what his mother and his tutor had taught him and he had been excited to meet other magical children that weren’t Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle.

He had been beyond excited when he’d gotten sorted into Slytherin. His father would have been so proud of him. At that age, Draco had been focused on nothing but impressing his father. It was too bad he’d been so naïve back then.

Draco looked over towards the Gryffindor table. Potter was sat there with his hangers on as usual. The Weasley siblings flanked Potter on both sides and Granger sat across from them. They were all smiling in the direction of the tiny little first years. They clapped each time a new Gryffindor was announced. Draco rolled his eyes.

All the first year Slytherins looked absolutely devastated every time the Sorting Hat announced them as Slytherin’s new additions. It seemed people still continued their prejudices against Slytherin House even when most of them weren’t evil in the slightest. Draco had been one of the few known Death Eater’s with Death Eater parents that had been in Slytherin recently. It was a shame that his entire house had to take on such a negative reputation.

Draco watched as each first year hesitantly joined the Slytherin’s at the end of the table. They all looked so damn terrified. Draco wanted to shout out them that they’d have nothing to be afraid of. The war was over and no one was going to hurt them. Especially now the Dark Lord was dead, but the last thing Draco wanted to do was to draw attention to himself.

He’d already done that enough when he’d stepped foot into the Great Hall. The laughter and chattering had died down tremendously once he’d entered the room. The students in the Great Hall had stared unabashedly at Draco. Draco simply stared back. He stood there for a few moments before he felt his cheeks warm. Then he lowered his head and slowly made his way over to the Slytherin table. Conversations started up again, shortly after he’d taken his seat.

Clearly his fellow Hogwarts students had not expected him to return to school. The Death Eater Trials had been sprayed all over the Daily Prophet, so they’d known he wasn’t in prison, but if their reactions were any indication, they hadn’t expected that he’d actually have the audacity to show his face. Especially not in Hogwarts where he was responsible for bringing the Death Eaters into the school to terrorize most of them.

Draco had been adamant about not going back to school, but somehow his mother had managed to convince him just like she had a habit of convincing him when it came to most things. She’d told him it would make her very happy if he returned and got his education, so he did. To make her happy. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to happy here though, surrounded by a plenty of people who probably despised him.

Draco looked around the Slytherin table. When he’d first walked in, there hadn’t been many people seated at the table, but it was almost full now, but there wasn’t a single soul surrounding Draco. The students had managed to leave him completely isolated. There was no student that apparently wanted to sit anywhere near an Ex-Death Eater. Unfortunately for him, neither Blaise nor Pansy had decided to re-sit their seventh year. He wished he could strangle his friends for making him go through this alone. Several other seventh year Slytherin had chosen to do so, but none of them had been his friends, and he was willing to bet that none of them would even think about doing so now. Draco continued watching the first years get sorted and resigned himself to keeping his head down this year. He didn’t want any trouble, especially now he was clearly going to be the only one on his side.

****

After the welcoming Feast, McGonagall gathered up all the eighth years and informed them that they wouldn’t be staying in their previous dorms. There apparently wasn’t enough room in each dorm to house current seventh years and eighth years. Instead, McGonagall led the eighth years into another part of the castle on the third floor and told them that it would be their new room instead. She’d told them, since there were no more than twenty five students who’d returned for eighth year, they’d all be staying together in one dorm; it was supposedly great for interhouse unity or whatever.

A portrait guarded the door just like any of the other houses. McGonagall told the portrait the password and the portrait swung out to allow everyone access. McGonagall bid them a good day and the eighth years stepped inside. Harry noted that the new dorm was exactly like the Gryffindor one except in more neutral colors. Instead of the loud red, burgundy, and gold accents the walls were gray and the furniture was brown and black. There were white and olive accents around the room, which made the entire area look less dark. It would take some getting used to, but Harry was sure he could adjust.

Once they’d finished looking around, Harry, Hermione, and Ron, all plopped onto one of the common room couches.

“What do you think it’ll be like sharing a dorm with all the other houses?” Ron asked.

Harry shrugged, indifferent.

“It’ll be just like sharing a dorm with all the other Gryffindors,” Hermione said. “What house you’re in means nothing at the end of the day. We’re all individuals.”

Harry hummed and noticed Malfoy stepping through the portrait hole. He’d wondered where he’d been when everyone else had arrived.

“I don’t like it,” Ron said. He’d also taken note of Malfoy’s entrance. “Especially having to share a dorm with the Slytherin’s. Who knows what they might do while we’re all asleep.”

Hermione sighed. Harry couldn’t see her face, but he was sure she rolled her eyes. “Stop with the house prejudice Ronald. I would think we’re past that at this point.”

“We are,” Ron said. “I’m just saying, you might want to sleep with one eye open,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Honestly, Ron. We should really get to know some people from other houses. _Including_ Slytherin. We could learn some things from them you know. They might surprise you.”

“That’ll be the day,” Ron replied.

Harry stared in the direction Malfoy had gone. He’d entered the room and gone straight back to where the boys rooms were located without even a glance in anyone’s direction. He must’ve been intent on being unnoticed.

Harry stood up from the couch and stretched. “I’m going to go unpack. I’ll see you guys later, yeah?”

“Be careful around Malfoy mate, you never know what he’s up to,” Ron told him.

Harry could see Hermione roll her eyes this time.

“Don’t worry Ron. I think I’ll be okay.”

There were around ten boys that had come back to do an eighth year at Hogwarts. The hallway on the right led to the boy’s rooms and the hallway on the left led to the girls. Harry walked through the right hallway and walked past the first door that housed five of the ten boys, until he reached the second.

He entered the room. There were five full sized beds that lined two of the room’s walls. The four posters were covered in gray hangings that matched the décor in the common room. Harry scanned the room for Malfoy and saw him unpacking his things at the bed at the farthest end of the room near one of the windows.

Harry walked over. “It’s nice to see you here.” Harry said.

Malfoy didn’t stop what he was doing to properly address Harry, “Leave me alone Potter. I’ve seen enough of you already.”

Harry ignored him. “I didn’t see Parkinson or Zabini around. They’re your friends right? They didn’t come back too?”

“No, Potter. They were smart enough not to come back and put up with this torture. How about you mind your own business?”

Harry watched as Malfoy continued organizing his things. It must’ve been hard for Malfoy to decide to come back to Hogwarts, with people like Ron still relying on old prejudices, and seemingly having no friends around. Draco was probably in for a hard year. Harry felt sorry for him.

 “If you ever need anything. Just ask.”

“I don’t need your pity Potter.”

Harry had offered to help only partly because of pity. He’d mostly offered because of his infatuation with Malfoy. Harry almost told him that, but he didn’t think he’d enjoy the reaction he’d receive. Harry just shook his head and returned to his bed.

A few moments later Harry heard the rustling from Malfoys direction stop. “Potter,” Malfoy called.

 Harry looked up. Malfoy wasn’t looking over at him. Instead, he was looking down at his wrist. Harry could see him thumbing a silver bracelet he wore. “I definitely won’t be needing anything from you, but thank you. For the other day. Bringing my wand back. You didn’t have to do that.”

And with that, Malfoy left the room. Harry laughed and set to unpacking his trunk. It probably wasn’t often, but it appeared that Malfoy was capable of being nice sometimes.

*****

           

Harry pressed himself closer to his broomstick as he picked up speed. He and Ginny had been flying around the quidditch pitch for some time now. The weather was warm and there was no wind. It was a perfect day for flying.

Ginny had asked Harry if he wanted to go out and play a game of quidditch, but giving the fact that they both played two different positons, Harry suggested they just go for a couple laps around the pitch instead. He didn’t want either of them to have an unfair advantage over the other if they’d decided to play a seeker’s game or a chaser’s game.

They’d taken several laps around the pitch. Harry had been enjoying the breeze on his face and the steady, calming pace. He really enjoyed flying slow enough to just really look around at the Hogwarts grounds.

After their fifth lap around, Ginny got a bit restless with the lackadaisical approach. She suggested they race one good time around. Harry, who was never one to turn down a healthy competition, agreed.

They were now racing as fast as they could around the pitch. Harry had assumed that he’d be in the lead when they started, but Ginny had clearly gotten better at flying since the last time he’s seen her. Ginny was by his side or just behind him for most of the race. When they neared the designated finish line, Harry pressed his body as close as he could to his broomstick. He could feel the wood digging into stomach hard enough to make him extremely uncomfortable, but the maneuver gained him just enough speed to beat out Ginny at the end.

Once the race was over, Ginny and Harry sat on their brooms in midair. Harry gave Ginny a pat on the shoulder and told her, “Better luck next time.”

Ginny smiled and pointed her broom down towards the pitch to land. Once she touched down, Ginny sat her broom off to the side and sat down in the grass. Harry followed behind her and did the same.

“How are things in the eighth year dorm?” Ginny asked Harry.

Harry picked up a blade of grass and ripped it into smaller pieces. “It’s interesting living with other houses. So far it’s not better than living in the dorms with all Gryffindors, but it’s not worse either. It’s just different. Everyone’s been getting on so far.”

“Even the Slytherins?”

“Well there’s only four Slytherins including Malfoy, but yeah them too.”

“Malfoy’s not giving you any trouble?”

If Malfoy being on his mind half of the time was Malfoy giving Harry trouble, then Malfoy was certainly giving him lots of it. In reality, Harry had only come into contact with Malfoy a few times since the start of the school year. Aside from their conversation in the dorm on the first day back, he and Malfoy hadn’t run into each other much. They’d see each other in passing and of course in the dorm, but that was about it.

“No, no trouble. He’s been keeping to himself. Staying out of trouble it seems like. I talked to him once, but that was it. He’s not that bad.”

“If you say so Harry,” Ginny said, sounding as if she didn’t think the words “not that bad” would ever describe Malfoy.

“How have things been for you so far?” Harry asked Ginny.

“Hmm. They’ve been fine. Just like any other school year,” Harry raised an eyebrow. “I mean minus possessions, wars, and Dark Lords, of course.”

Harry laughed and lay back in the grass with arms pillowing his head. Ginny lay down next to him.

“Do you think you’ll miss quidditch?” Ginny asked him.

Returning eighth years weren’t allowed to play quidditch in an official capacity. There was really no room for eighth years to join the team after the sixth and seventh years coveted the most sought after positions. McGonagall had thought it was only fair that eighth years who were supposed to have already graduated weren’t allowed to advance in the team. Scouts were always at Hogwarts games looking for the next big thing, and it wouldn’t have been fair to others if eighth years like Harry had gotten to keep their positions while current seventh years had waited for players like him to graduate so they could get scouted in their seventh years.

“I don’t miss it,” Harry told her honestly. “I’ve played for years. And I can still play practice games and stuff, so it’s alright. I haven’t gotten to watch a quidditch game in a long time. It’ll be great sitting in the stands cheering the teams from the outside for a change.”

Harry and Ginny lay back in the grass silently for a while. Harry listened to the sounds of the birds chirping and closed his eyes. He could probably fall asleep out here with the hard ground underneath him and the sun warming his face. He contemplated doing just that when Ginny reminded him of her presence when he felt her slide closer to him. Close enough that their shoulders were touching now.

Ginny eventually reached out and took ahold of Harry’s hand. He thought about how he could slyly remove his hand from hers, but the longer he and Ginny lay there holding hands, the more uncomfortable Harry began to feel. Harry pulled away roughly.

Ginny reached for his hand again. Again, Harry pulled away.

Ginny sighed at the rejection and Harry said nothing. He scooted over a little and tried to settle back into the comfortable silence that was between them before.

Ginny scooted over towards Harry and laid her head on his shoulder. Harry wished Ginny knew how to take a hint. Harry sat up swiftly, jostling Ginny’s head in the process.

Ginny sat up too. “Harry,” she said as she reached out for him.

“Stop it,” Harry said firmly as he dodged out of her reach.

Ginny’s hand stopped midway. Her face went blank and Harry watched as Ginny’s eyelids started to drift. Harry remembered something similar happening when he’d been talking to Malfoy all those weeks ago. Before Harry could think about the parallels any longer, Ginny blinked rapidly and snapped out of whatever seemed to be entrancing her. Harry noted that she’d snapped out of whatever it was much sooner than he’d remembered Malfoy having done so.

Ginny watched Harry for several moments before she dropped her hand back to her side. She squinted at Harry and tilted her head to the side, staring at him in confusion.

Harry squinted too. He was just as confused as Ginny looked. “What?” Harry asked.

Ginny said nothing.

“What happened?” Harry asked Ginny.

“You tell me Harry,” Ginny replied.

Harry was even more confused than before. “What?”

“What did you just do?”

Concern added itself to Harry’s confusion. As far as he knew, he hadn’t done anything to Ginny. What on earth was she talking about?

“What did you do to me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about? I didn’t do anything to you Ginny.”

Ginny stood up. She looked at him angrily, hands on her hips. “If you didn’t want to be with me Harry, you could have just said. You didn’t have to lead me on. And you certainly didn’t have to do whatever it is you just tried to do to me. It’s despicable Harry.”

Ginny stormed off and harry watched her go. He was still confused about what Ginny thought he’d done to her. He certainly didn’t remember having done anything to her, except reject her, but that wasn’t what Ginny had been talking about was it?

Ginny had gone weird just like Malfoy had previously. Ginny and Malfoy had both gone blank while talking to Harry and they had both looked like they were on the verge of falling asleep in the middle of a conversation. Had the same thing happened to the both of them?  Was Harry at fault for whatever was going on? The common denominator between both incidents _had_ been him. The only difference was that Malfoy had acted like nothing had happened. Harry placed his head in his hands. He didn’t know what was going on, but whatever it was, hopefully it wouldn’t happen again.


	7. Chapter 7

Days after the incident, Harry still hadn’t figured out what the hell had happened. He’d tried asking Ginny, but every time he saw her, she ran away from him. Every time Harry spotted her in the hallway, an angry look would cross her face, and Ginny would make it clear that talking wasn’t an option between the two of them before she would turn her back on him

After several days, Harry considered doing something ridiculous and tried owling Ginny a letter. That hadn’t worked well either. Just that afternoon, during lunch, Harry had seen one of the school’s owls drop a letter in Ginny’s lap. He watched as she opened it and read it.  Then she crumpled it up and stuffed it in her pocket before pushing her plate back and leaving the Great Hall.

Harry’s eyes followed her as she went. He contemplated getting up to follow her, but thought it would be best if he didn’t. Ginny was still clearly angry at him.

Harry looked up and across to the Slytherin table. Malfoy was there all by himself just as he usually was on the days he actually bothered with taking meals in the Great Hall. Malfoy nibbled at a sandwich and took a few bites of soup every now and then. He hadn’t been upset at him after what had happened at the Manor. The few times Harry had talked to him, Malfoy had been his usually snarky self, but he wasn’t obviously upset at Harry. He’d even thanked him. There was no way Harry had done something to him and Malfoy had let it slide. Harry wouldn’t have heard the end of it if he had.

Harry continued staring in Malfoy’s direction. Malfoy had taken another bite of his sandwich. He’d started chewing it, but halfway through chewing it, Malfoy’s hand had gone slack. He dropped his sandwich back onto his plate, and started nodding off. Harry watched on, slightly worried the man would face plant into his hot soup, but Malfoy’s head bobbed. He woke up and instantly locked eyes with Harry as he sat up properly.

Harry was slightly startled that he’d been caught staring, but he didn’t look away. Malfoy blinked sleepily as he stared back at Harry. Harry broke eye contact and pretended something to Malfoy’s left had caught his attention. After a few beats, Harry looked back, and Malfoy was no longer there. Harry looked in the direction of the Great Hall door’s just in time to see Malfoy strapping his bag over his shoulder and leaving the room.

Harry continued staring in that direction until he’d felt an elbow plunge into his side.

“You still think he’s up to something mate?” Ron said. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater.”

It was Harry who’d admonished his friend this time. “Stop it with the Death Eater stuff Ron. Voldemort’s dead what could Malfoy possibly be up to?”

“You never know,” Ron said before stuffing his mouth full of what was probably his fourth sandwich.

“What’s going on between you and Ginny?” Hermione asked Harry.

Harry looked at her. Hermione had noticed that there was something off between them; was it obvious to everyone else too? Harry thought about telling Hermione that nothing was wrong, but perhaps Hermione could be of some help. “She’s mad at me, but she won’t tell me why. Do you think you could try talking to her for me?”

“Trouble in paradise mate?” Ron said sweeping bread crumbs away from his hands. “I could talk to Ginny if you like?”

“No thank you, Ron. I’d rather Hermione spoke to her. She might actually tell her what’s wrong.”

Ron nodded. “You’re probably right. She’d probably prefer talking to Hermione about you two’s relationship problems rather me.”

Harry didn’t bother correcting Ron by telling him he and Ginny were just friends. He just agreed instead.

Hermione closed the book she’d been reading and placed in her bag. “I’ll go look for her and see what I can find out, okay?”

Harry smiled. “Thanks Hermione.”

Hermione smiled back. “No problem.”

“She’ll figure out what’s wrong with Ginny mate,” Ron told Harry. “She’s got a way of getting things out of people that one.”

“I hope so,” Harry replied. He really needed to get to the bottom of this.

*****

           

Draco shouldered his bag and quickly made his way up to the eighth year dormitories. He thought a nap was in due order. Thankfully, his last class of the day had been cancelled due to the Professor coming down with an illness. He could sleep straight through dinner if he wanted.

Draco wondered why he was so tired recently. This was the third time he’d nearly fallen asleep into his food since he’d been back at Hogwarts. He thought he was getting enough sleep at night, but he couldn’t help but find himself feeling extremely drowsy more often than not. Maybe he was falling into a state of depression. He’d read that people tended to sleep more often when they were depressed.

He wasn’t sure if he was feeling down enough to claim to be depressed, but he certainly wasn’t happy. He’d been at Hogwarts for weeks now and the only company he had was his homework. Though Draco thought laying low was his best course of action, his lack of human interaction was slowly getting to him.

Draco threw his bag on the floor and took off his robes and shoes. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and placed it underneath his pillow. He tucked himself into his bed and closed his eyes. Though he was tired, sleep seemed to evade him at the moment.

Draco opened his eyes and sighed. His thoughts were back in the Great Hall. He hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep. One minute he was focused on eating his lunch, the next, he found himself leaning precariously close to his potato soup. He’d jolted just before he hit the bowl and quickly sat up only to look across the hall and find Potter staring at him.

Draco hadn’t been in his right mind enough to send a glare in Potter’s direction for watching him embarrass himself monumentally. Instead, Draco just watched Potter watching him through his sleep blurred eyes. Potter eventually looked away, and while Potter’s attention was on something else, Draco took the opportunity to leave unnoticed.

Draco tucked an arm under his head. It was just his luck that Potter had caught him being an idiot. What had Potter been looking over in his direction for in the first place? Surely Potter hadn’t been looking over to see how Draco was faring? Potter must’ve noticed that Draco always sat alone in the Great Hall and that when they weren’t in classes, he was still alone. He didn’t speak to anyone and no one spoke to him. Surely Potter hadn’t been watching him and pitying him?

Draco huffed. He was being delusional really. There was no way Potter was worried about anything in regard to Draco’s wellbeing. If anything, Potter was probably keeping an eye on him. Just make sure Draco wasn’t up to anything foul.

For the second time, Draco closed his eyes and attempted to sleep. He reached his arm under his pillow and grasped his wand. He’d never been attacked whilst he was sleeping and he probably didn’t have anything to worry about while in the Hogwarts’s dormitory, but sometimes he felt safer holding it while he dozed off.  Eventually, Draco’s eyes fell heavily and he quickly fell asleep.

*****

           

Harry lay on the common room couch. He had his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook out, lazily reading the chapters that’d been assigned. He’d been on the same chapter for about an hour. Harry couldn’t stop drifting away wondering if Hermione had gotten anything out of Ginny yet.

He didn’t have to wait much longer. Hermione came bustling into the common room. She headed in his direction once she’d seen him on the couch.

“Did Ginny tell you what’s wrong?” Harry asked her.

“Did you do something to Ginny Harry?” Hermione asked him calmly.

Ron, who’d been over near the fireplace playing a game of chess with Dean while Seamus watched on, had stood up and came over to them. “Harry did something to Ginny?”

Hermione shushed Ron as a few people looked over in their direction. She grabbed both Harry and Ron by their wrists and led them through the portrait hole. Once outside, she guided them over to a secluded corner and put up a notice-me-not and a silencing charm.

Again Hermione asked, “Did you do something to Ginny, Harry?”

 “What did she say?” Harry asked.

“She said that  tried to reach out for you and when she did, you said “stop” or something like that. Then Ginny froze before she  could make contact. She said she remembered feeling warm and fuzzy inside and remembered hearing a voice inside her head telling her not to touch you.

She specifically remembered it being your voice Harry. She heard your voice in her head and she had an overwhelming feeling of following what your voice was telling her.”

Harry was shocked. Ginny had heard his voice in her head telling her to stop? Maybe she was confused. He had indeed told her not to touch him, but he certainly hadn’t planted the thought in her head.

“How could she possibly have heard my voice in her head? I didn’t do anything. Maybe she’s confused?”

Hermione shook her head quickly. “No. She said she was sure she heard your voice in her head.”

“That’s barmy,” Ron said.

“It does sound strange,” Hermione said. She placed a hand around Harry’s upper arm. “Are you sure you didn’t do anything Harry. It’s okay if you did. We understand you probably didn’t mean any harm.”

Harry scoffed. “No. I didn’t do anything to Ginny. I’m sure of it. I did tell Ginny not touch me when she tried, but I didn’t force her not to. I don’t know what she’s talking about,” Harry said as he crossed his arms over his chest. “She’s making it sound like I cast the Imperius Curse on her or something.”           

Hermione gasped. “But Harry,” she said. “What if you did?”

Harry looked scandalized. “I didn’t.”

“Tell us what happened exactly,” Hermione said.

“Yeah. What happened when you told Ginny not to touch you?” Ron added.

Harry told his friends how Ginny had been reaching out to touch him. He’d told them all about how she’d seem to freeze, looked a bit dazed, and seemingly looked like she was about to fall asleep.

“It does sound like the Imperius Curse,” Hermione nodded. She rubbed a finger over one of her eyebrows. A sure sign Hermione was doing some deep thinking. “She remembered what happened though. Maybe she fought it off?”

 “There shouldn’t have been anything to fight off.  I’d never cast an Imperius on someone. I couldn’t have cast it at Ginny. I didn’t even have my wand out.”

Hermione hummed. “You are more powerful now Harry. Maybe it was wandless?”

“Even still,” Harry said. “I didn’t cast the spell or make any movements that would have cast it.”

“But maybe you did. Imperius is an Unforgivable. They work with intent. You have to mean them. If you really wanted to stop Ginny from touching you, maybe your magic read that as intent and cast it for you.”

“Is that even possible?” Ron said. “Something else must’ve happened.”

“Anything is possible,” Hermione said. “Just the existence of magic proves that. People have been known to cast involuntary magic before you know.”

“Of course we know that, Hermione, but that usually only happens with little kids, who can’t control their magic yet,” Ron countered.  

“It’s not just children though. Older witches and wizards have been known to cast involuntarily on the occasion when they’ve been cursed, their emotions are strong, or for any other various reasons when they can’t control their magic. I’m not sure anyone’s ever cast powerful spells like Unforgivables before involuntarily, but you never know.” Hermione paused. “We could always test it.”

“We can’t just go around casting Unforgivables, Hermione.”

“I know we can’t Ron, but it’s the only theory we’ve got right now. At least if we try it and it doesn’t work, we can rule it out and find out what really happened. I’ll let Harry try it out with me.”

“No,” Ron said placing a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “I’ll do it. It could be dangerous. We don’t know. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Hermione smiled at Ron and then turned to Harry. “It’s settled then. Harry?”

Harry didn’t want to voluntarily place anyone under the Imperious Curse. It was all types of immoral, but something had definitely happened to Ginny. Thinking even further back, something had definitely happened to Malfoy too. Now was Harry’s chance to figure out if he was the one who’d caused it. If it was his doing, they could research and find out how to fix it.

Harry nodded and agreed to test out Hermione’s theory.

“Okay Harry,” Hermione started. “Tell Ron to do something.”

Harry couldn’t really think of anything, so he just said, “Jump three times.”

Nothing happened.

“So that’s that then. It’s not Imperius?” Harry questioned.

“We can’t be sure,” Hermione said. “Were you really thinking about how much you wanted Ron to jump?”

Harry shook his head. “I wasn’t. I just said it. I wasn’t thinking about it that much.”

“Let’s try it again then. Think really hard about it Harry. Envision it in your head even. You have to really want to see him do it.”

Harry focused on Ron and thought in his head, that it would really be nice to see Ron jump up and down three times. “Jump three times,” he said.

Harry and Hermione watched. Ron’s face went blank just like Malfoy’s and Ginny’s.  Then he jumped in place three times just like Harry had told him to. Harry looked at Hermione and her eyes were just as wide as he felt his were.

Ron blinked and a questioning expression crossed his face. “Are you going to do it or not Harry?”

Hermione stepped up to him. “You don’t remember?”

Ron squinted at her.

“You don’t remember Harry asking you to jump three times?”

“Yeah,” Ron said. “It didn’t work. We should try it again, mate.”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other again wide-eyed.

“It did work Ron. Harry asked you to jump again and then you did it.”

“I did?” Ron was shocked. And then he wasn’t. “That’s so cool Harry!”

Harry and Hermione glared at Ron.

Ron wiped the grin from his face. “I mean…it’s not cool. It’s not cool at all.”

Harry rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. “Not only do I have Voldemort’s magic running through me, but apparently it’s got a mind of its own too.”

Hermione looked at Harry sadly. “Has this happened before? Have you only noticed it with Ginny?”

After seeing the proof right in front of his eyes, Harry was quite sure he’d casted an unintentional Imperius Curse on Malfoy as well.

No. It hasn’t happened before,” Harry lied. Why he lied about it, he didn’t know. Perhaps because they didn’t really need to know. Or perhaps Harry didn’t want them to know when and where it happened, and certainly not who he was with when it did. That would include more questions than Harry wanted to answer. “What am I going to do now?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll figure something out. The first thing we should do is go to Madame Pomfrey. Maybe she’ll know what’s going on and how to fix it,” Hermione told Harry.

“No,” Harry said. “I don’t want to go to Pomfrey. Odds are, she’ll call in some other healers to consult and I’m not sure I can trust them. It’ll be all over the papers by tomorrow, even despite the gag order they have on writing about me. I don’t want to give anyone any more ammo to use against me. Please let’s try figuring something out on our own first. It’s only happened the once,” Harry lied again. “It’s not that serious yet.”

 “Okay Harry, if that’s what you want,” Hermione assured him. “Let’s go to the library then and do some research. Maybe we’ll find something,” she said.

Harry rubbed at his eyes again. “You two go ahead. I’ll meet you there in a little while.”

“Alright Harry,” Hermione said. She grabbed Ron’s hand and dragged him off in the direction of the library.

Harry leaned against a wall and thought about how crazy his life always was. He still couldn’t even cast a _lumos_ properly and now he was somehow putting people under Imperius wandlessly and unintentionally. Harry sighed. So far, he hadn’t made anyone do anything to crazy while under the Imperius curse. All small things really, but did it really make a difference? He was still taking advantage of someone’s free will. It was truly ridiculous that Harry was never allowed to have an easy stress free year at Hogwarts. He really had to give it to Voldemort for always ruining his life.


	8. Chapter 8

After a particularly boring potions class with the other eighth years, Draco found himself walking aimlessly through the halls. Classes were over for the day and he didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t particularly inclined to go to the dorms. It wasn’t his idea of fun to go back there and have to stare at all the other eighth years in the common room pay absolutely no attention to him while they all had a good time.

Draco walked through various halls and staircases, unsure of where he was headed. He walked slow and steady, with his head down. When he finally looked up, he realized he was nearby the Astronomy Tower.

Draco went up to the tower. He sat his bag down and looked out of the window. This was the place where he’d attempted to kill Dumbledore all those months ago. At the end of the day, Draco was glad that he hadn’t been capable of the task, but it upset him that he had been asked and agreed to do it in the first place.

Draco took out his wand and stepped back a few paces from the window. He took a stance and pointed his wand at the window; mimicking what he'd done when Dumbledore had been standing there in front him. He remembered the words the man had told him. He couldn’t remember them exactly of course, but he remembered the old man offering him sanctuary.

At the time, Draco wished he could’ve taken it, but everything told him shouldn’t. He couldn’t betray The Dark Lord all of a sudden. His parents were still with The Dark Lord and the man would have killed them for their son’s betrayal, Draco had no doubts about that. No it was better to not kill Dumbledore and have The Dark Lord think he was a coward and a failure instead. There had been punishment for not completing his task completely, but at least Draco and his family had been allowed to remain alive.

Draco dropped his wand. He stepped back over to the window and slumped to the floor, just underneath it. He held his wand in his palms and examined it. It had stopped feeling strange a few hours after Potter had given it back to him. He still felt an odd sensation emanating from it every time he hadn’t cast a spell in more than a few hours, but it was nothing compared to the first day Potter had handed it to him.

He thought about going out and buying a new wand, but he wasn’t sure who would even offer him one given who he was. He was determined to get used to this one again. He was able to use it just fine, he was pretty sure the wand had switched loyalties back to him, but he felt like it still belonged to Potter sometimes. Not because his wand was physically strange, but because Draco felt like he was less emotionally attached to the wand than he used to be. He’d waited eleven years to go out and get his official wand. He’d remembered how he felt the first time he touched it and cast a spell. He loved the feel of his magic running through it. Now, when he did magic, he felt nothing. He still felt like he was using his mother’s wand, even though he’d been using this one for years. If only Potter had never taken his wand from him in the first place.

Speaking of Potter, Draco had seen him the other day, outside on the quidditch pitch with Ginny Weasley. They’d been out flying on one of the warmer October days. Draco had watched them fly back and forth. He’d been passing one of the corridors that overlooked the pitch and he’d stopped and watched them for a while. He watched as they zoomed around. Neither of them seemed to have a care in the world.

It must’ve been nice that Potter still had his friends and his girlfriend at Hogwarts. Draco had no one. He really wished his friends had taken pity on him and had come back to Hogwarts. He’d owled them several times, but such correspondence was nothing compared to actually having someone around. Draco had never realized just how much he actually depended on his friends until they weren’t around to keep him company.

Draco had owled his mother on the occasion too. She’d always asked him how his studies were getting on and asked if he was making any new friends like she had back in first year. Draco would always lie and tell her that things were going well. He told her that people were tentatively getting to know him better and of course he was getting along with the other students and that she shouldn’t worry. The last thing he wanted to admit to was being lonely. He didn’t want his mother pitying him after she’d convinced him it was a good idea to come here.

Draco leaned his head against the brick wall. He never remembered feeling this lonely before. Well except for when he was busy trying to carry out The Dark Lord’s mission. He couldn’t tell anyone about his work trying to find a way for the Death Eaters to get into the school or trying to kill Dumbledore. Blaise and Pansy had asked him on several occasions if he was okay; that he could talk to them if he wanted to. Draco fucking hated that he couldn’t tell them anything, but his life had been at stake. So he’d told them everything was fine and distanced himself from them.

After the war, Pansy and Blaise had welcomed him back into the fold after they gone to his trial and heard about everything he’d been going through. He’d been fortunate that they forgave him for his wrongdoings, even if he hadn’t completely forgiven himself yet. They spent plenty of time with him in the months after the war, but they’d both decided that they’d had enough of Hogwarts and went on their separate paths.

During the past few weeks, Draco had watched as the other eighth years had forgotten all about house prejudices and managed to make friends. Draco had attempted to strike up conversation with a few of his new house mates before, bringing up trivial topics such as quidditch, chess, or even homework, but when he did, they’d answer him politely and ignore him afterwards.

The only person who’d even deigned to speak to him or initiate conversation had been Potter. He’d spoken to Draco a few times, but Draco had fobbed him off each time, acting as if he had neither the time nor desire to speak to Potter. He hadn’t at the time, but maybe if Potter attempted to speak to him again, Draco would give it a go and see if the Gryffindor actually had anything of interest to say.

Draco scoffed. What was he thinking? As if Potter would attempt to talk to him again. As if they’d had extremely pleasant encounters the first few times he had tried. The next thing Draco knew, he’d be thinking he and Potter could be friends. Draco laughed at that. Potter of all people? The Defender of the Light, being friends with an Ex-death Eater? Loneliness was surely driving Draco into delusion. Of course he and Potter could never be friends. That had already been determined from before they’d ever met.

Draco picked himself up from the floor. Maybe he should go to the library to study. At the very least, homework would take his mind off his depressing thoughts.

Once at the library, Draco dropped himself into a chair at one of the tables at the back of the library. Not too many people ever came back in this direction. It was a great place for studying alone. Draco cracked open his Arithmancy textbook and attempted to understand the theories written on the page. The textbook seemed to be written in another language. Draco was never good with numbers. He flipped to the index of the book and looked for reference books that might be helpful with helping him understand what he was reading.

After checking in with Madame Pince, she directed him to a little trafficked area of the library where he could find the reference books he was looking for. He walked over to the shelves and perused the aisles. There were books upon books about Arithmancy; most of them looked beyond dusty. Arithmancy was an advanced course that not many chose, unlike he had stupidly done so while trying to expand his resume, so he wasn’t surprised that the books hadn’t seen much use.

Draco finally reached the shelf that supposedly held the books he was looking for, when he a heard a rustle several shelves over. He peered through the shelves and saw Ginny Weasley duck into one of the aisles with Potter on her tail. Great. He was probably about to subjected to a show he was absolutely positive he didn’t want to see.

Draco looked for one of the books he’d been searching for, quickly trying to get away from the shelves as soon as possible. He searched around and had found two of the books he’d been looking for. He looked for the last one and found it fairly easily. He yanked it from the shelf.  

Draco gathered the three books in his arms and just as he was about to leave Draco glanced back in Potter and Weasley’s direction just out of curiosity. Thankfully, they weren’t engaging in anything untoward as Draco had presumed. They appeared to be talking about something. They must’ve cast a silencing, charm because Draco couldn’t even hear remnants of a whisper despite being in the vicinity.

He watched as they talked on. He could only see Potter’s face from his position, but he could tell that whatever the two were talking about it probably wasn’t a pleasant conversation. The conversation continued on, until Draco saw Potter reach out and hug Weasley. She hugged him back and they embraced for a few moments. Draco guessed they’d made up then. Good for them.

Though Weasley had left after that, Potter watched her go as he stayed behind. Draco watched as he pulled something out of his back pocket. Draco couldn’t see what it was, but Potter appeared to scrutinize over it for a short while before he looked up quickly and spotted Draco. They locked eyes.  Draco jumped slightly having been caught staring at Potter. Draco wasn’t in the mood to stick around for the telling off he assumed Potter would give him for eavesdropping. He gathered his things and quickly left the shelves. Potter didn’t call after him, nor did he follow him back to his table.

*****

Before going to go to the library, Harry decided to go find Ginny and apologize to her first. He went up to the eighth year dorms and pulled out the Marauder’s Map. He scanned it for Ginny’s name and saw that she was fortunately in the library. He could meet with Ron and Hermione right after.

He stuffed the map into his pocket; just in case Ginny left the library before he got there. He didn’t want to have to run all the way back up to get it out again. He ran as fast as he could to the library and found the table Ginny was sitting at.

Ginny was sitting at a table by herself. She looked like she was extremely focused on whatever subject she was studying. He walked over to her and tapped her on her shoulder.

She looked up and behind her with a smile on her face. It dropped once she noticed the person who’d interrupted her had been Harry. She turned back around to gather up her books, but Harry placed a hand on the book she was about to close.

“Can I talk to you for a minute Ginny, please?”

 “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Please Ginny,” Harry pleaded. “Hear me out. Please, let me explain what happened, okay?”

Ginny didn’t reply, but she made no more movements to leave. Harry took that as a sign to continue.

“Can we talk somewhere a little more private?” Harry asked her.

Ginny nodded and got up from the table. She led him to the shelves in the library that students rarely went down. Ginny cast a silencing charm before she leaned against a bookcase and crossed her arms.

“So explain,” she said.

And Harry did. When he was done explaining, Ginny looked at him. Harry imagined he himself had looked just as confused when he’d discovered his newfound “talent” earlier with Hermione and Ron.

“Is that really what happened, Harry?” She asked him. “You really didn’t know you were doing it?”

Harry shook his head. “I had no idea. I would never do that to you Ginny. Ever,” he emphasized. “I’m really sorry about it. Regardless of whether or not I meant to do it.  It still happened.”

“Don’t be sorry Harry. You didn’t mean it. It’s okay. I forgive you.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Ginny said. “But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook for leading me on,” she told him poking in jokingly in the chest.

Harry blushed. “I’m sorry about that too. I really should’ve said, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“I’m a big girl Harry, I can take rejection. You just had to open your mouth and tell me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Ginny looked down. “I’m sorry too actually. I was out of line. I should have stopped trying. I should have realized it wasn’t what you wanted.”

“Don’t worry about it Ginny. It wasn’t a big deal. Like you said. I should have said something or at least told you to stop before it came to _that_. Let’s forgive each other and move on yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ginny agreed and smiled. “Friends?” She asked.

Harry nodded. “Friends.” Harry reached out and hugged Ginny. She hugged him back. When she let go, she smiled at him and walked swiftly down the aisle to return to her work.

Harry was glad that was taken care of. Now he just had to find Ron and Hermione and try to figure out how to stop this whole thing. He pulled out the map again and searched the library for Ron and Hermione’s names. He found them quickly, but just before he put the map away he happened to find Malfoy on the map as well. He was in the library too, standing several paces behind Harry. Probably only a few bookcases over.

Harry shoved the map into his pocket and looked up. He spotted Malfoy immediately. They locked eyes before Malfoy startled and walked off. Had he’d been eavesdropping on Harry and Ginny’s conversation? Harry didn’t worry too much about it since Ginny had made sure to cast a silencing spell. Instead, Harry contemplated whether or not he should apologize to Malfoy too. He thought about it, but then realized he couldn’t do that without explaining to Malfoy more things than he would have been comfortable explaining to him. Harry decided against it. No harm, no foul. Malfoy was fine.

Harry made his way over to the table he’d spotted Ron and Hermione at on the Marauder’s Map. He greeted his friends and took a couple books from the pile Hermione had probably placed in the center of the table. He took a seat, cracked open the first one, and started researching how he might be able to solve his problem.

Hours later, most of the students had exited the library. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were a few of the only students left. They had perused many books and had found absolutely nothing. Most of the books they’d gotten talked about the history of the Imperius curse, how people defended against it, and the effects that might affect one while under the Imperius Curse, but not a single book talked about casting the curse unintentionally.

Hermione was pouring over a book she’d found in the restricted section, and if the sighs she was giving off while reading through it were any indication, it too, was of no help.

Harry glanced over at Ron. He had passed out a half hour ago and was currently drooling on the sleeve of his robes.

Harry closed the fourth book he’d skimmed though and sighed. “I’m tired Hermione,” he said. “There’s nothing here. Why can’t I just be normal?”                

“You are normal Harry,” Hermione said not taking her eyes away from the text she was reading.

 “How can I be?” Harry questioned. “I’ve got Voldemort’s dark magic mingling with my own and it’s making me do things I don’t want to do.”

“It’s not the magic itself that’s dark Harry. It’s just magic. It isn’t inherently dark or light.”

“But there is dark magic though.”

“Sure there are dark spells, charms, curses, and hexes, but it’s those spells, that are dark, not the magic itself. It’s not magic that’s dark.  How someone uses it is what’s important Harry,” Hermione said. “What if you had used Avada Kedavra to kill Voldemort? That’s a dark curse right?”

Harry nodded.

“In that instance,” Hermione said, “you would have been using a dark spell to kill Voldemort, but it would have been for the greater good. Voldemort used dark magic to maim and kill innocent people. It was never the magic that Voldemort used that was evil. It was him that was. You having Voldemort’s magic means nothing Harry. It’s how _you_ use it that matters.”

“That’s exactly it though, Hermione. The way I’m using it is wrong.”

Hermione reached across the table and patted Harry’s hand. ”But you’re not doing it on purpose Harry. Of course it would be bad if you were to purposely take advantage of people, but you’re not. You’ll never be in the same league as Voldemort, whether you have his magic or not.”

Harry stayed quiet for a while and then said, “What if we don’t find anything?”

Hermione smiled. “If we don’t find anything, we’ll figure it out.”

Harry wasn’t so sure they would, but he decided to put some faith behind Hermione’s words. They’d figure something out. They had to.


	9. Chapter 9

It was lunch time at Hogwarts and Draco wasn’t feeling very hungry, nor was he in the mood for sitting in the Great Hall being strategically ignored by everyone. Instead of going to lunch, Draco decided to take a walk around the castle.

He walked aimlessly through the halls. Just like the day he’d found himself near the Astronomy Tower, Draco found himself standing in front of another important room that had had much influence on his life, the Room of Requirement.

He looked at the doors that led to the room. He hadn’t given a single thought to the Room of Requirement since the night of the fire. He had done his best to push the memory of what had happened last in this room out of his memory.

Draco wondered why the doors were still visible. They appeared to be the same doors that led to the Room of Hidden Things, but Draco most certainly hadn’t walked in front of the door three times in order for the door to even appear and he certainly hadn’t been thinking of that specific room. Why were the doors there then? Was someone occupying the room?

Draco opened the door, curious about what he might find inside. Once in the room, the first thing Draco noticed was Potter. He seemed to be practicing spells. Draco didn’t think he had heard him come in, seeing as Potter hadn’t turned and looked in his direction. Draco couldn’t quite see what Potter was doing from behind, but he could hear him cast a _lumos_. Right after, Draco saw a very bright light coming from in front of Potter and he watched as Potter hissed and dropped his wand on the stone floor.

“What was that?” Draco blurted.

Potter jumped and looked back at Draco. He turned back around, touched his wand and whispered a _nox_ , before picking his wand back up. “It was nothing,” Potter responded.

“It didn’t look like nothing. I heard you cast a _lumos_ , but that didn’t look like any _lumos_ I’ve ever seen. Not unless you don’t know how to cast one properly Potter,” Draco said. He couldn’t resist taking a jibe at Potter and added, “I guess being the Chosen One does have its advantages. You get to breeze through classes even though you can’t even cast first year spells.”

Potter didn’t take the bait. He sighed, sounding defeated. “I’ve just had a little trouble casting spells, since after the war.”

Draco wanted to poke fun at Potter again. It would be easy really. He was used to picking at Potter for the past seven years, it was practically ingrained in him, but Draco found that he was actually a little curious about what Potter was up to.

“Why can’t you cast spells properly?”

Potter looked at Draco and looked like he was going to speak, but then he didn’t. Draco raised his eyebrows, in a silent gesture to Potter, telling his to “go on”.

Potter scratched the back of his head and said, “After the war, I gained a little more power than I had before,” Potter held his wand and looked down at the floor. He looked ashamed. “I don’t know how to control it properly. I can sometimes, but it depends on the spell.”

“Why don’t you ask for help?”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You could ask your friends,” Draco said obviously. Surely they’d help you. Burden or no?”

Potter shook his head. “I don’t want to ask them,” he said simply, no explanation.

Potter not asking his friends for help seemed like a new thing to Draco. Since when did Potter ever do anything without the other two thirds of the Golden Trio following up behind him?

“You’re embarrassed aren’t you?” Draco surmised. “You single handedly defeated The Dark Lord, who was supposedly one of the most power wizards, and now you can’t even cast a _lumos_. You don’t want people thinking you’re not living up to their expectations, given your hero complex.  You don’t like letting people down.”

Potter grasped his wand tightly in both hands. Draco assumed he was right.

“I see you’ve got a new wand,” Draco said.

Potter nodded. “It’s supposedly better suited to me now. It doesn’t seem to be working very well at the moment though.”

“Well if you’ve got more power Potter, It’s probably you and not the wand that’s not working properly.”

Potter glared at Draco.

Draco quickly backpedaled. “I didn’t mean it like that Potter. I just meant that you haven’t adapted yet to working well with a different wand and a different power level.”

“I guess not,” Potter agreed.

“I could help you, you know,” Draco said. He wasn’t actually sure if he could help Potter, but Draco saw an opportunity to become closer to someone in this dreadful castle. If he was going to take his mother’s advice and let people get to know the real him, who better to start with than Potter? The sole person he’d interacted with since coming back to Hogwarts?

Potter appeared to mull it over. “What could you possibly do to help me Malfoy?”

Draco shrugged. “I’m not really sure I can do _anything_ to help you Potter, but I’d like to try,” he admitted. “Since you’re clearly not going to ask your friends for help. You might not mind me helping you. We’re not friends, so no need to be embarrassed. I have absolutely no expectations from you.”

Potter rolled his eyes. “But why would you help me? What’s in it for you?”

Draco took a deep breath. Should he admit to Potter why he wanted to help him? That he wanted to help Potter out because it would benefit him in the end? Draco thought about thinking up some lie, but when his mind went blank and no plausible excuses came forth, he settled for the truth. “Truthfully, Potter, I’ve been feeling a little lonely these days. I don’t have any friends here, and I don’t think people trust me much. What with this and all,” Draco said lifting his arm up slightly. Though his sleeves were down, Potter looked at Draco’s arm and nodded, seeming to understand that Draco was referring to his Dark Mark. “It might be nice to have some company,” Draco continued.

“What makes you think I’d be good company?”

“I don’t know really,” Draco told him. “You went out of your way to return my wand. You could have thrown it away somewhere, but you made sure to give it back. You must not hate me entirely. And you did tell me, to ask if I ever needed anything. Well, I could use a friend.” Draco said. He felt relieved that he was getting this off his chest, but he also felt extremely vulnerable. He was being way too open with Potter, someone he’d never been comfortable with. Draco thought he’d be lucky if Potter didn’t laugh in his face for being so pathetic. What was he doing asking for friendship from someone he’d been so cruel to, ever since they’d first met?

Harry looked at Draco. His face was blank and Draco couldn’t begin to wonder what the man was thinking in regard to his proposal. Potter continued staring at him for what felt like forever. Then he shrugged.

“Why not?” Potter said. “When do you want to start helping me?

Draco looked at his watch. It was getting late. Almost time to return to classes. “Not today, but meet me here at eight p.m. on Sunday. We’ll see what we can do then.”

Potter agreed and Draco left him to it. Draco didn’t know if Potter had agreed to let him help him because he truly wanted the help or because he’d taken pity on Draco and wanted to offer him friendship because he just couldn’t stand not trying to save someone from something. Loneliness in Draco’s case, but either way, Draco was glad. He was on his way toward becoming friends with Harry Potter. He remembered attempting to make friends with Potter all those years ago and failing. Hopefully he wouldn’t mess it up this time.

*****

           

Days after agreeing to let Malfoy help him, and agreeing to become Malfoy’s friend, Harry found himself headed to the Room of Requirement. It was probably a mistake to agree to befriend Malfoy. Sure, it was something Harry had been wanting for a while now, ever since his crush on him had surfaced, but it was probably a mistake actually deciding to be his friend. Even if he and Malfoy by some miracle became close, Harry was sure he’d have a hell of a time keeping his attraction to himself.  Being close to Malfoy would probably lead him to falling for him even more than he’d already had and falling in deeper with Malfoy would only lead him to heartbreak. Harry had made a wrong decision. But what was done was done, and Harry couldn’t back out of it now.

Harry entered the room. It was just as empty as it had been before. Malfoy hadn’t shown up yet. Harry took off his robes and threw them off to the side. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and twirled it around a few times. Malfoy entered the room shortly after.

Malfoy nodded a greeting in Harry’s direction, but he didn’t approach him. Instead he went over to one of the walls, and sat down with his back to the wall. Harry watched Malfoy open up his bag and watched him pull out a notepad, a book, and a quill.

 “What are you doing?”

“I’m doing homework Potter. I know you’ve seen it before,” Malfoy replied.

“I have. But didn’t you come here to help me?”

“I will,” Draco said. “When I’m done with my homework. It’s due tomorrow and I forgot all about it until now. Give me a minute Potter, there’s not much to do.”

Harry huffed. Malfoy was just as rude as always. Harry felt like he really should reconsider his feelings for the prat. At least Malfoy had actually shown up. He could have just left him hanging, so at least there was that.

Harry twirled his wand a few more times as he debated whether or not to practice on his own or go over and keep Malfoy company while he did his homework. Curiosity won out in the end, and Harry went and sat with Malfoy.

Harry sat down, not too far away from Malfoy. Far enough that he wasn’t touching him, but close enough so that he could see what he was doing. Malfoy wrote out what appeared to be an essay for History of Magical Injustices. He watched as Malfoy scratched his quill to the parchment, resulting in a somewhat messy cursive scrawl.

“Do you have nothing to do Potter?” Malfoy asked without looking over while he continued writing his essay.

Harry hummed. “Not really. I finished that essay earlier. Hermione practically forced me to do it. I’ll just sit here and wait for you to finish,” Harry said. He made no moves to stop invading Malfoy’s personal space.

“It’s fine, if you sit there Potter, but could you please refrain from huffing down my neck. It’s unnerving.”

Harry felt a bit put out, but nonetheless, he scooted away from Malfoy just enough to give the man a little more breathing room. He continued watching Malfoy though. Harry noticed that Malfoys hands were large, with long skinny fingers, a little delicate looking. Harry had noticed ages ago that Malfoy was left handed, which was interesting. Harry hadn’t known too many left-handers. The quill Malfoy held sat right in the crevasse between his thumb and forefinger. The jet black feather brushed against his skin with every stroke of the quill. Harry wasn’t close enough to tell, but he thought he could see a small dark mole on Malfoy’s skin whenever the feather moved away.

Harry looked further up, up to Malfoy’s wrist and saw a bracelet around it. He noticed it before, and looking at it now, it looked like some sort of I.D. bracelet. Harry leaned closer, to get a better look. Before he could see it well enough, Malfoy stopped him.

“What did I say about breathing down my neck Potter?”

Harry backed away again. “I was just looking at your bracelet.”

Malfoy looked down at his wrist. He ran his thumb over it briefly before he not-so-subtly yanked his sleeve a little further down to cover it.

“When did you get that?” Harry asked. “I don’t think I’ve seen you wearing it before this year.”

“Good to know that you’ve paid that much attention to me Potter, that you know exactly what I’ve worn and not worn before.”

Harry grinned. “I’ve always paid a lot of attention to you Malfoy. You were always up to _something_.” Harry had paid even more attention to Malfoy than usual in the recent years, and it had nothing to do with Harry being suspicious of him, but Malfoy didn’t need to know that.  

Malfoy looked at Harry. Harry grinned more as Malfoy rolled his eyes at him.

“I was not always up to something,” Malfoy said. “At least not really until sixth year,” Malfoy corrected under his breath.

The smirk fell from Harry’s face. Well that had made things awkward. Harry had seemed to have conveniently forgotten the part that Malfoy played in the beginning of the war. Harry knew all about Malfoy fixing the vanishing cabinet in the Room of Hidden Things and giving the Death Eaters access to the school. He knew that that action alone had led to the subsequent takeover of Hogwarts by the Death Eaters. Harry felt a small stroke of anger rise in him thinking about how much torture his friends and other classmates probably went through because of it, and here he was smitten with and trying to make friends with the guy who’d started it. Harry took a deep breath and tamped his anger down. That was in the past. Who knew might’ve happened if Malfoy hadn’t fixed that cabinet, but it didn’t matter at this point. What was done was done. Harry thought that he could ultimately forgive Malfoy for the things that he’d done and move on with this friendship. Especially because Malfoy probably had good reasons to do what he’d done.

“Why did you do it?” Harry asked looking at Draco’s arm where his Dark Mark probably was. “Why did you join Voldemort and why did you let the Death Eater’s into the school? You could have asked Dumbledore for help if you really didn’t want to do it.”

Malfoy finally stopped writing his essay. “I’d rather not talk about it Potter.”

Harry saw the look on Malfoy’s face. He looked somber, regretful. Harry would concede for now, but he made a mental note to himself to ask Malfoy about it again later. He needed to know if he and Malfoy were ever planning on becoming true friends.

Harry moved on and asked Malfoy about his bracelet.

“Why are you so nosy Potter? “ Malfoy asked him.

“I’m not being nosy,” Harry said. “I’m just curious. I thought you said you needed someone to talk to. To be your friend? You could have fooled me though, because it seems like I’m the only one here trying to start up friendship, you’re certainly not.”

“You’re asking me all sorts of things while I’m trying to finish my homework Potter,” Draco said. “Not to mention you’re asking extremely personal questions. This newfound friendship has barely lifted off the ground.”

Harry looked away at that, then he heard Malfoy sigh.

“But, if you must know, the bracelet is a magical house arrest bracelet. With it on, I’m confined to the Manor and only a few other places outside of it, including Hogwarts. It’s lets the Ministry know where I am at all times. ”

Harry turned back to Malfoy surprised. “A house arrest bracelet? “ Harry had seen and heard of them before. He’s seen them several times on the telly, on the rare occasion he was allowed to watch with the Dursely’s , but the one’s Harry had seen were always around someone’s ankle, weren’t nearly as inconspicuous, and of course weren’t magical.

Harry leaned over towards Malfoy more. He was even more insanely curious about the bracelet now. He lifted up Malfoy’s sleeve revealing the bracelet. It was interesting that what looked like an ordinary decorative bracelet was actually keeping tabs on Malfoy. Harry touched it expecting it to be cold for some reason. He rubbed his fingers over it, noting that it emanated a comfortable warmth under his fingertips.  He could feel its magical presence thrumming, almost causing a vibrating sensation.

Harry heard Malfoy’s throat clear and looked up. Malfoy was looking at him. Harry found himself awfully close to Malfoy’s face. He’d never been this close to Malfoy before; he admitted that being this close was a rather interesting moment to take part in. Up close he could see Malfoys long blond eyelashes framing his dark gray eyes. Harry looked up a little further and could see what looked to be a small pimple right at the corner of Malfoy’s right eyebrow.

Malfoy cleared his throat again and Harry focused back on Malfoy’s eyes, which were now staring at him in confusion. Harry realized what he was doing then, blushed, and pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have asked.”

*****

Draco didn’t mind telling Potter about his bracelet. At least the truth about that was far less invasive than his reasons for joining The Dark Lord and the like, so Draco told him all about it. He expected that Potter would just nod and go about his business, but Draco should have known that Potter was never one to go about doing what was expected of him

Instead of leaving Draco alone, Potter took it upon himself to examine Draco’s bracelet. While Draco was in the middle of explaining why it was illegal to touch a unicorn on a Tuesday, he felt and saw Potter reach down and touch his bracelet.

Draco had stilled on contact, but Potter didn’t seem to have noticed. Draco watched, feeling tense, as Potter ran his finger over the bracelet. As Potter rubbed over the bracelet with his thumb, his other fingers rested against Draco’s skin just above the bracelet. Draco felt his hair stand on end. Potter had never touched him before, at least not in any way that wasn’t violent, and it was making Draco uncomfortable. The barely there touch of Potter’s was sending signals to Draco’s brain and making him start thinking about Potter in a way Draco should never think about Potter.

Potter’s full attention was on the bracelet. Draco cleared his throat, hoping it would get Potter to stop, but Draco just found himself with another problem when Potter stopped looking at the bracelet and started looking at him.

Draco hadn’t realized that Potter had been so far in his personal space. There was probably only an inch or two between them. Potter was entirely too close. Draco waited for him to pull away, but Potter just sat there staring at Draco. Draco watched as Potter stared into his eyes and then up in the vicinity of his forehead. Draco didn’t know what the hell Potter was looking at, but he knew he wanted him to stop before the flush Draco could feel forming crept up his cheeks.

He cleared his throat again and Potter focused back on Draco’s eyes. Draco stared at Potter in confusion wondering why Potter couldn’t seem to take a hint and remove himself from Draco’s face. It took a few seconds, but Potter seemed to finally catch on. He blushed and hurriedly moved away from Draco.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve asked.”

Damn right Potter should have asked. Who did he think he was touching all over Draco without his permission? Draco knew Gryffindor’s like to go into thing’s without thinking about them too much, but he didn’t realize that applied to their interactions with people too. He and Potter had barely been friendly with each other, but Potter was comfortable enough to invade Draco’s personal space so easily. He was insane.

Draco gulped. “Let me finish my work Potter,” he said and tried his best to put his focus and energy back into his essay and not into Potter’s eyes boring into him.

Half an hour later, Draco finished his essay, closed his book and capped his quill. He put his school materials into his bag and stood up from the floor.

“Alright, let’s get started.”

Potter stood too and asked Draco what they should do first.

Draco gestured in Potter’s direction. “Cast a spell.”

Draco watched as Potter peered off to the side. He appeared to be thinking about something. After a short while Potter held up his wand and cast an _aquamenti_. Draco barely had time to step out of the way before a strong gush of water jetted from Potter’s wand. The water gushed out from his wand like it would have from a hose and covered the floor with a sizable amount of water.

“Almost dying by fire was enough Potter. I don’t wish to drown as well.”

Potter cancelled the spell. “Sorry,” he shrugged. “I can’t control it.

“Try something a little simpler,” Draco suggested.

Potter looked at the thin layer of water covering the floor. “ _Exaresco_ ”

The water on the floor quickly evaporated. At least that worked.

Draco nodded appreciatively. “That’s good, but you can’t really mess up a water evaporation spell, can you?”

The wind went out of Potter’s sails a bit. He agreed however. “Let me try something else.”

Potter reached up and untied the tie from around his neck. He laid it on the floor and pointed at it with his wand. Draco didn’t recognize the hand motion Potter was doing, but quickly caught on when Potter said “ _Geminio_.”

The duplication spell worked, but Draco was sure it hadn’t worked in the way Potter had intended it to. Instead of duplicating Potter’s tie for a total of two, the tie duplicated itself many more times. If Draco had to guess, he’d say that there were at least a hundred ties piled up in front of them.

“I guess you won’t need to wash any ties for a long while,” Draco teased.

Harry laughed. “No I guess not. I always hated doing laundry spells anyway.”

The laughter died down and Draco asked Potter to try a different spell. “What spell would you like to work on the most?” Draco asked.

“ _Lumos_ ,” Potter told him. “That’s the first one I tried when I got my new wand. I’d like to be able to do that one properly.”

“Alright then, let’s work on that one.”

Potter raised his wand and cast a _lumos_. Draco watched as the light from the tip of Potter’s wand glowed extremely bright and hot. Even he could feel the heat radiating from the wand before Potter dropped it on the floor. As hot as it seemed to be glowing, Draco was surprised the glow hadn’t caught Potter’s wand on fire.

“Do it again.” Draco told Potter.

Potter raised his wand, but Draco stopped him with a hand on his arm before he could cast the spell. “What do you usually do when you cast a spell?”

Potter mulled it over. “I usually think about the spell I want to cast, focus on only that, and then cast.”

Draco nodded. “Okay, that’s the usual tactic I think, but perhaps you need to try something different?  Usually when casting, one’s focus should be on channeling their magic through the wand and that’s it, but you need to focus on channeling less magic through.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Potter asked. “It’s not like I can only channel some of my magic.”

Draco rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure Potter. I’m not even sure that’s something you can do in practice rather than theory, but you can certainly try.  Here, let’s try something.”

Draco asked Harry to cast the Lumos on the count of three. Potter raised his wand. Draco counted to three, and when three came around, Potter cast the _lumos_ while Draco had simultaneously poked him in the ribs.

“Why’d you do that?” Potter asked rubbing a hand over his side.

“To distract you,” Draco told him. “Look at your wand.”

Potter turned away from Draco and looked at his wand. Draco could see the surprise on his face. This time around, the _lumos_ Harry had cast was far less bright and far less hot than the one he’d cast before. It still wasn’t exactly how a normal lumos should have looked, but it was damn close.

Potter looked on in wonderment.

“You weren’t as focused on the spell this time, so far less power went into it, thus making it  a far more suitable _lumos_.”

“That’s great,” Potter said. “But I can’t have you around poking me in the ribs every time I need to cast a spell.”

“That job really doesn’t sound that bad Potter, but you’re absolutely right. You can’t go around doing magic only half focused on it. There’ll probably come a time where you’ll need to be completely focused to properly cast a spell, but this is a start right? In theory, we know that you’re capable of putting less energy into a spell and we know that less energy means a more properly cast spell in your case, we just need to focus on being able to do that without being distracted.”

Draco wondered how many “we’s” he’d injected into those few last sentences. Since when did he start thinking of Potter and himself as one entity instead of two?

Draco continued, “For now, practice that spell some more, but don’t think about it too much. You practice. I’ll sit and watch.”

*****

Harry agreed and watched Malfoy go over to the wall they’d been sitting up against earlier. He focused his thoughts back on practicing. It was great that he was able to cast it at least somewhat properly at this point. He had tried a million times on his own and had failed every single time. While Malfoy’s solution to his overpowered casting problem was far from a long term solution, at least it could help him for now.

For the past few weeks, Harry had refrained from casting most spells. Thankfully, most of his eighth year studies were more focused on theory rather than practice for the moment, and he hadn’t needed to cast too many spells that he wasn’t capable of handling, but Harry knew he’d have to be able to properly cast at some point. The NEWTs were going to come around before he graduated and he’d definitely need to be able to use his wand properly before then.

Now that Malfoy had showed him that he could cast a spell a little more normally than usual, Harry was ready to try his best, or should he say half of his best in order to make sure that he sent less power and energy through a spell.

Harry raised his wand. The first times he cast, he’d dropped his wand as usual. Harry thought of a different method and decided that like Malfoy had demonstrated, he needed a distraction, to cast only half focused. Harry thought of the most recent thing that had happened and he attempted to cast while thinking of Malfoy poking him in his ribs. He tried this method several times. It didn’t work at all. Instead of focusing on the spell and also thinking of Malfoy distracting him, Harry could only find himself getting wholly distracted and not thinking about casting the spell at all. Instead, he’d say the words to the spell and do the wand movement, but he kept thinking about Malfoy watching him from afar. Watching him try and fail. He couldn’t put enough focus into the spell for the tactic to even begin to work correctly.

Harry tried to keep his thoughts off of Malfoy to the best of his ability. He thought of other things like Hermione researching the whole Imperius thing, Ron going on and on about the Chudley Canons, or how he and Ginny were just barely getting back on good terms. Harry had these thoughts while staying half focused on casting, and just like before, he couldn’t cast the lumos at all.

Harry practiced for ten more minutes. His failures had gone on long enough and he hoped that maybe Malfoy could give him some more input at this point, but when he looked over in Malfoy’s direction, Malfoy wasn’t watching Harry practice at all. Malfoy had fallen asleep.

Harry felt annoyance creep up through his chest. Malfoy was supposed to be helping him, not sleeping. Harry briefly wondered how long he had been asleep. He’d been awfully quiet while Harry had been practicing. Harry should have wondered why he hadn’t heard a snarky comment from the blond in a long while.

He put his wand in his pocket and went over to Malfoy. Malfoy was sitting up, back against the wall, his legs splayed out in front of him and his head was resting against the wall. He nudged him a little, hoping that Malfoy might wake up, but Malfoy just groaned and turned his head in Harry’s direction.

Harry thought back to earlier when he’d been analyzing Malfoy’s bracelet. They’d been so close then. Closer than Harry had ever thought he’d get to Malfoy’s face before. Harry kneeled down and took full advantage of watching Malfoy sleep.

Malfoy’s hair had been precariously tucked back behind both of his ears earlier, it had slipped free and now it was hanging in a veil over his face. Harry ducked his head a little. He could see Malfoy’s eyes flicker back and forth underneath his eyelids. He must have been dreaming.

Harry had the sudden urge to reach out and touch Malfoy again. He was so used to seeing Malfoy so kempt; it was strange to see him with his hair falling all over the place. Harry reached out and gingerly tucked a lock of Malfoy’s hair behind his ear. When he’d done so, if Harry was mistaken, he was sure he could see a few gray hairs mixed with blond near Malfoy’s temples. Harry leaned in closer wondering if the lighting was playing tricks on his eyes and came to the conclusion that yes, there were a few gray hairs there along with a few other strands all over Malfoy’s head. It wasn’t noticeable from a distance, but up this close Harry swore that that was all he could see. Harry instantly felt bad for Malfoy. Just how much had he’d gone through that his head was full with greys at just eighteen?

Harry peered down at Malfoy’s hands. They were placed neatly in his lap. Malfoy’s sleeve had ridden up, revealing Malfoy’s house arrest bracelet to Harry again. Harry touched it lightly, feeling the buzz of magic run through it again. He’d liked the way it had felt earlier. It felt warm and gave him a comforting feeling. Harry rubbed his thumb over it, carefully making sure he didn’t touch Malfoy’s skin that rested under it. The bracelet was small, and unobtrusive. Anyone without knowledge of what a house arrest bracelet looked like probably wouldn’t think anything of it, but Malfoy knew exactly what it was. According to him, it monitored his every move. Being restricted to certain places must’ve been hell.

Harry knew about that all too well, having spent so many years stuck in the cabinet under the stairs. He couldn’t have been happier finding out he was a wizard and finally having somewhere he could go and be free. Malfoy’s situation wasn’t exactly the same. At least the Manor was a nice place to be confined to, but having your home being your prison must’ve been hell too. A different kind of hell surely, but hell nonetheless. Harry was glad that Malfoy was allowed to come to Hogwarts at least. Hogwarts was a place of solace for the both of them.

Harry left Malfoy’s bracelet alone and looked back up at him. Thankfully, he hadn’t awoken, and caught Harry being entirely too comfortable with him. Malfoy _had_ changed positions however, and now the back of his head was resting against the wall, his head tipped up towards the ceiling, and his mouth wide open. Harry wished he’d had a camera on him to take a picture of Malfoy allowing himself to be so classless in public. He’d have loved to take a picture, if only for the adverse reaction Malfoy would have been sure to have, upon realizing he’d been so uncouth in Harry’s presence. Harry of course, would have taken much joy in teasing him about it.

Malfoy took a sudden deep breath, in and out, and Harry moved back a little, wondering if Malfoy was on the verge of waking up. That didn’t happen though. Instead, Malfoy snorted and close his mouth. Harry chuckled. Really? Where was a video camera when he really needed one?

With his mouth closed, Malfoy looked far less ridiculous. Harry leaned in close again and this time he noticed how handsome Malfoy was. Of course, Harry had noticed before and of course Malfoy had always been handsome, but it was extremely noticeable now that Harry could unabashedly appreciate Malfoy’s face. Malfoy really wasn’t a bad looking bloke. Harry had to admit that despite his seemingly bad taste in men’s personalities, he had least had good taste in looks.

At that thought a flash of heat shot through Harry. His cheeks warmed and Harry decided it was time to stop ogling Malfoy. He was definitely being beyond creepy. It was time to gain some self-control.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and checked his watch. It was a little after ten. Harry called it quits on the practice session. It wasn’t like he was practicing anymore anyway. Harry stood up and nudged Malfoy with his foot. Once he’d woken him up, the both of them walked up to the dorm room in a tired silence, to get a good night’s sleep in preparation for the next school day.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry spotted Hermione in the common room. She had grabbed him in the hallway earlier and told him they needed to talk about his “situation” later. Harry had agreed. Harry had done a little more research on his own, but had come up with nothing and had gotten so frustrated that he’d practically given up on trying. He’d planned on researching some more, but hadn’t gotten back around to it so far. He hoped that Hermione was faring better at figuring out how to solve his problem than he was.

Harry sat down on the couch with Hermione right in front of the fire. Once he’d sat down, Hermione dropped her book off to the side and cast a silencing spell even though the common room was empty at this time of day.

“Have you found anything Hermione?” Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head. “I haven’t had much luck. I’ve found all sorts of things that cover the Imperius curse, but nothing about casting it involuntarily and of course nothing about stopping it from happening. Have you found anything?”

Harry just shook his head. “I haven’t found anything either. I’ve been mostly focusing on controlling my magic.”

“That’s good Harry. If you can learn how to control your magic, you might be able to learn how to control the involuntary Imperius too. How’s it been going so far? I haven’t asked about that in a while. I hope it’s going well,” she said looking slightly ashamed.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve already got your hands plenty full with trying to help me figure out everything. I can handle controlling my magic.”

“That’s good Harry. You know you can just ask me and even Ron if you need any help with it.”

 “I’m actually getting some help,” he said sheepishly.

Hermione’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? Is McGonagall helping you sort things out?”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t think Hermione would have too adverse of a reaction if he told her he was working with Malfoy, but he was pretty sure Hermione wasn’t too fond of him. Years of calling her hateful slurs had probably made sure of that. “Malfoy’s helping me out actually,” Harry said at last.

Hermione was definitely surprised. “Malfoy?”

 “Yeah.”

Hermione looked thoughtful. Harry couldn’t begin to know what she was thinking. “How did that happen? I thought you hated him?”

“I did,” Harry agreed. “But he came to me and offered his help. And he also asked me to be his friend.”

Hermione looked even more surprised. “He did?”

“Yeah he did. I felt sorry for him I guess, so I agreed. He’s been alright so far Hermione. He’s still just as snarky as ever but he’s been alright.”

Hermione stared at Harry.

“Do you have a problem with Malfoy and me being friends?”

Hermione sighed. “I’ll be honest Harry. I’m not too fond of Malfoy. He’s antagonized us, mostly you, the entire time we’ve been at Hogwarts. Now all of a sudden he wants to be friends with you? So easily, after everything he’s done?”

“I know he’s done a lot over the years, but I don’t know Hermione. I’d like to think he’s being genuine right now. He’s made some huge mistakes in the past. Maybe he needs someone to give him a second chance.”

“Perhaps,” Hermione agreed. “I just don’t know why it has to be you who gives it to him.”

“He practically asked me to, so why not?” Harry shrugged. He was skeptical about deciding to trust Malfoy, but when Malfoy had asked him to become friends with him. Harry couldn’t help, but to agree. Malfoy really didn’t seem like the same Malfoy he’d been before the war. Harry just hoped that was really the case.

“If that’s what you want Harry, then that’s fine with me. Do what you want, but be careful, okay?”

Harry nodded. “I will.”

“Have you told Malfoy about the Imperius thing?” Hermione asked him.

“No I haven’t.” Though perhaps Harry should have told him. He did do it to him after all. Harry definitely owed Malfoy an apology, but Harry was taking the stance of “what Malfoy didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him” at the moment.

“He does know about you having the extra power though, right? Or does he just think your magic’s out of control?”

“I did tell him about the extra power,” Harry told Hermione. “But that’s all I told him. I didn’t tell him how I got it I don’t want him to know everything right now.  Maybe I’ll tell him later, but right now? We aren’t that close yet.”

“That makes sense,” Hermione said and patted Harry on the knee. “I’m going to keep researching for you whenever I have the time okay? I’ll let you know the minute I find something, but until then? You should keep working on controlling your magic. The quicker you can control it, the easier it might be to control the Imperius. Maybe if you get a handle on things, the problem will go away on its own.”

Hermione got up and went up to the girls rooms. Harry hoped she was right about this whole problem going away on its own. It didn’t really look like they’d be finding a way to solve it any time soon.

****

           

Another practice session and Harry found himself becoming beyond frustrated. He’d been practicing, with Malfoy’s help for a while now, and still he still didn’t have much to show for it. He was getting better at producing certain spells properly, but there were still many he was having a whole lot of trouble with. Harry sighed and dropped his wand arm to his side.

“It’s no big deal,” Malfoy told him. “It’ll come in due time.”

“I know,” Harry said.  

Harry thought about his “situation” as he’d pretty much called it now. He never really had control over his life as long as he’d lived it. Living with the Dursely’s, entering the wizarding world, and having to defeat Voldemort; it had all pretty much been decided for him. He never really had a choice in such matters. Now that the war was over, Harry had been sure that he could do what he wanted and only worry about himself but even now, his own magic had decided to cast spells on its own. 

Harry voiced some of his thoughts, “I just hate that I don’t have much control over my magic.”

“It’s not that big of a deal Potter.”

“I know it’s not, but I just hate that there’s more trouble I have to deal with now. Every year there’s always something I have to worry about. It’s stressful.”

“It’ll get better,” Malfoy assured him. “Look Potter. We’ve both been through some things, but the war is over now. We can move on can’t we?” Draco gestured between himself and Harry. “That’s clear since we’re here forming a tentative friendship. We can move past our animosity and you’ll get past what’s happening now.”

Harry nodded. “You know, before this year, I never thought we could be friends. I mean, we’ve hated each other for years. How is this actually working out?”

Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t hate you Potter.”

“Oh, really? “ Harry asked not believing for a second what he was hearing.

“I didn’t Potter. At least not near the end of the war anyway. You saved my life Potter. I really couldn’t hate you after that. Not to mention I wanted to you to defeat Voldemort and win the whole thing. It was too much, I wanted it to be over, and I no longer wanted to serve The Dark Lord for the rest of my life.”

“Why did you join Voldemort in the first place?” Harry hadn’t asked Malfoy that in a while, but since Draco had brought the man up, Harry took the opportunity.

“I had no choice.”

“There’s always a choice.”

“Would you have preferred I betray my father Potter? Do you think that would have worked out well for me?”

“You never know,” Harry replied.

Malfoy sighed and changed the subject. “Why did you decide to become my friend?”

“I thought you deserved a second chance.”

“Why?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I felt sorry for you on some level. I think that you wouldn’t have turned out the way you did if it hadn’t been for how you were raised. I think you’d be a different person, maybe a better one.”

“Thank you, Potter.”

“For what?”

“For being honest. And also for giving me the chance to show you that I can be a better person. You won’t be disappointed, I promise,” Malfoy joked.

“Here’s hoping,” Harry returned.

           

****

           

Draco took a seat and pulled his potions textbook out of his bag. Being an eighth year was interesting when it came to classes. All the eighth years who took similar classes took their classes together, with seventh years, regardless of house affiliation. No matter how many students were in the class however, Draco always found himself sitting alone in the back of the classroom with no partner to work with, unless the professor specifically assigned him one.

Draco couldn’t complain though. Working alone and being alone, came with the territory of keeping one’s head down, but he admitted that being alone was far less grating on his psyche these days, what with Potter practically becoming his new best buddy. Draco had a hard time feeling isolated, even when he physically was, because he’d remember that he had “lessons” with Potter.

Draco sat with his elbow on the desk and his chin in his hand as he watched a few stragglers trickle into the classroom, bordering on late. Potter unsurprisingly was one of those stragglers. Draco wondered why Potter could never manage to make it on time to morning classes such as this one. It wasn’t like Potter actually took the time to comb his hair, or make sure he looked presentable. Potter must’ve had a habit of sleeping in.

Potter stumbled over to one of the desks and sat down next to Granger. Granger whispered something to Potter. Draco couldn’t hear or begin to read lips well enough to decipher what she said, but given Granger’s mentality, Draco was sure she was scolding him for not showing up on time. That was confirmed when Potter told Granger in an anything less than quiet voice, that she shouldn’t worry about him turning up late. He wasn’t late so that was all that mattered. Draco smiled to himself.

The new potions professor, Professor Byron, walked into the room and headed to the front. He placed his things on his desk and immediately went into teaching mode. He told them they’d be brewing a temporary paralysis potion that the aurors generally used for criminals who were especially crafty at escaping. He told them they’d run into it on their NEWTs, so they’d best pay attention if they were planning on being prepared.

“You’ll be doing this potion with partners that I will pick randomly,” Professor Byron said.

Quiet moans of unsatisfied students filled the air. Draco added to it, with his own quiet moan of disappointment. Though he hated not having a partner (only because he was the only one who didn’t have one), he could admit that he preferred to work alone. He could brew a potion better on his own than he ever could with a partner, especially when said partner was usually far less competent than he was. Brewing a complicated paralysis potion was work enough without having to babysit a partner.

Draco sighed and hoped his partner wouldn’t be a complete idiot. He zoned out while the professor paired up random students. Draco had been zoned out enough that he hadn’t heard his own name, nor realized that his partner had been assigned until he heard the chair next to him scrape out from underneath the desk.

Draco braced himself before looking over, hoping that the gods hadn’t cursed him, but when he looked over he wasn’t sure if he’d been cursed or blessed.

“Hey,” Potter said as he sat down next to him.

“Hello,” Draco returned.

Draco was relieved that Potter was his partner. At least he was fairly comfortable around him and didn’t have to worry about being tense while brewing, wondering if his partner might slyly hex him behind his back, but Draco didn’t recall Potter being much of a genius with potions. He’d probably still have to babysit Potter even if he didn’t have to watch his back.

Perhaps Potter had learned something about patience and potions since Draco had last seen him brew. At the very least, Draco was sure Potter was capable of patience these days. They’d met several times after that first Sunday and even though Potter’s attempts at controlling his magic didn’t go well most of the time, Potter never stopped trying. Draco could appreciate that.

After they read the potions text and retrieved their ingredients from the potions storeroom, they returned to their desk and began brewing the paralysis potion. They worked silently and methodically for the first few minutes. Potter squeezed mistletoe berry into the cauldron while Draco worked on dicing a lizard leg into the smallest pieces he could manage.

“Could you extract the venom from the doxys while I do this Potter?” Draco asked as he continued chopping the lizard.

“Yeah,” Potter replied.

“I’m trusting you Potter,” Draco told him. “Make sure you put on gloves. The venom is dangerous,” he reminded him.

“I know, I know,” Potter told him. I do read the potions textbook and I know how to follow the instructions. Even if I hadn’t read the book, I know to put gloves on, seeing as I’ll be dealing with venom, Malfoy. I’m not a complete idiot like you think.”

“I certainly don’t think you’re a complete idiot Potter,” Draco said smiling at Potter. Potter returned Draco’s smile. “I do think you’re a fairly intelligent person Potter. Probably only twenty five percent idiot.”

Potter chuckled. “You’re very funny Malfoy, do you know that?”

“I try Potter. I try.”

Potter shook his head. “I can handle it. No worries.”

Draco watched Potter out of the corner of his eye. Potter put on a pair of gloves, grabbed a small knife, and started to cut open one of the doxys. Pleased that Potter seemed to know what he was doing; Draco focused his attention on the next task at hand.

He picked up a bottle of acromantula venom. He gloved his own hands and poured an ounce into a measuring cup before he poured it into the now bubbling cauldron. He carefully placed the stopper back onto the acromantula vial, removed his gloves and placed them off to the side.

Once the potion turned green after a few minutes, Draco proceeded to the next step of brewing and started chopping up an eye of newt. He carefully turned the newt eye this way and that to get the perfect dice. Draco had just a few more slivers to dice when his right arm and right hand suddenly felt weak and his fingers slid out of position while he was attempting to make a slice, thus he ended up slicing open one his fingers, rather that the newt eye.

Draco hissed. He looked around the work service for a rag or a towel of some sort. He spotted one and immediately picked it up to press it to his wound, but before he could, Potter grabbed his wrist. Draco was so surprised by the sudden action and the slight pain running through his wrist from Potter’s harsh grip.

“Ow Potter. What the hell?” Draco gritted through his teeth.

Potter pinched a corner of the rag and pulled it from Draco’s hand. Then he instantly let go. “That has venom all over it,” he said. “I didn’t want you to rub it into the cut,” Potter said grabbing Draco’s hand again.

Potter turned Draco’s hand over and analyzed the small cut. Potter rubbed Draco’s fingers and straightened them out so he could see the damage for himself. At the slight touch of Potter’s fingers rubbing over his own, Draco tingling feeling jolt through his hand. He looked up at Potter. Potter was still analyzing Draco’s fingers. Draco wasn’t sure if what he felt had been static magic or if his brain had been attempting to send him some sort of signal.

Draco heard Potter say something about Draco poisoning himself, but after that, Draco couldn’t comprehend anything Potter was saying. He heard Potter speaking, but Draco could only hear Potter’s deep slightly panicked voice as he tended to Draco’s wound. Potter was holding Draco’s hand firmly in his own. Draco noted that Potter’s hands were warm and rough as he rubbed a clean cloth over Draco’s hand, removing the blood. Draco felt the tingle again, but he was quite certain it wasn’t magic this time.

“You’ll have to close it up yourself. I don’t want to risk cutting you open any further,” Potter said and Draco finally focused back on what Potter was saying.

Potter ran a wet, alcohol smelling rag over Draco’s hand. A venom cleaning solution, Draco presumed. Potter dropped Draco’s hand and Draco picked his wand and healed his cut.

After Draco healed his wound, Potter grabbed Draco’s hand again and examined it like he had earlier. He nodded, seemingly satisfied with Draco’s work and got back to prepping more ingredients like nothing had ever happened.

Draco blinked stupidly a few times. He wasn’t sure he could go back to nonchalantly chopping the rest of newt eye after that. Potter had literally been extremely hands-on with him and Draco had to be extremely honest, and say that he’d quite enjoyed it. He half wished he’d “slip” and require Potter’s attention once more. Draco’s mind was so filled with thoughts of slipping up again, there was no room for questioning why his fingers had slipped in the first place.

*****

After potions, Harry and Malfoy parted ways. After Malfoy’s mistake, things had gone fairly smoothly. They’d finished chopping up all the ingredients and got them into the cauldron. Malfoy had stirred the potion and waved his wand over it. They just had to wait until next class to stir the potion again.

Harry was sure the potion would turn out fine. Malfoy was pretty good at potions after all. At least when Harry himself wasn’t involved, Harry thought guiltily.

After Harry had finished extracting the venom from the doxys, he had cleaned up the few traces of venom that had been left behind on the work surface. Instead, of disposing of the rag he used to clean the venom up with properly, harry had instead chosen to lay the rag down on the table and paid no further attention to it. He had moved on to chopping up a few fairy wings when he’d noticed Malfoy pick up the venom soiled rag out of the corner of his eye.

Upon seeing Malfoy about to rub a cut with the rag, Harry had grabbed Malfoy as fast as he could and stopped him from doing so. He had noticed how hard he had been holding Malfoy’s wrist until he yelped. Harry let him go, and while thankful for his quick reflexes, he wished he had been a little gentler.

Harry berated himself for being stupid enough to leave the rag on the table. Sure he couldn’t have predicted that Malfoy would pick it up, but it really didn’t matter. One of the most important rules of brewing potions was to keep your work space free of unnecessary hazards.

Even though Harry had messed up monumentally, at least no harm had come to Malfoy. As far as Harry could see, the man was perfectly fine, the small cut looked like it would heal just fine and Malfoy’s hand would remain unscarred. Speaking of Malfoy’s hand, Harry had noticed how nice Malfoy’s hand had felt and looked in his own. While he analyzed Malfoy’s for any damage done, he noticed that Malfoy’s hand was smaller and paler than his. Harry quite liked the feeling of Malfoy’s smooth, pale hand in his own. It was a little on the cold side, but nothing Harry couldn’t fix by holding it in his own.

Harry jolted himself out of his thoughts. No good would come of thinking how good Malfoy’s hand had felt in his. It would never happen no matter how much Harry wanted it to. There was no use in thinking about it and getting himself worked up. He’d wind up desperately wanting something more from Malfoy. Something that decidedly wasn’t just friendship if he wasn’t careful.


	11. Chapter 11

After a long day of classes, Draco decided he’d head in for dinner in the Great Hall. He tended to skip dinner more often than not, but he found himself being extremely hungry after he’d skipped breakfast and lunch earlier in the day.

He walked into the Great Hall and went over to his usual spot at the Slytherin table. There were several open spaces around him as usual.

He reached for the tea kettle and poured himself a cupful of tea. Then he grabbed a plate and filled it with roasted chicken, potatoes, peas, and a crunchy roll. He picked up his knife and fork and was about to dig into his meal when he felt someone come and sit down right beside him.

Curious as to who could possibly have sat next to him after all these weeks, he looked over and spotted Potter. Potter waved at Draco and smiled. Draco hesitantly smiled back, confused as to why Potter had come over to the Slytherin table. Draco looked around the Great Hall and noticed that the other students were staring in his and Potter’s direction. Draco guessed that they too, were wondering why Potter had come and taken a seat at Slytherin, especially next to him.

Draco set his cutlery down onto a napkin. “What are you doing Potter?” Draco asked.

“Eating dinner,” Potter said filling his plate.

“I can see that.” Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m wondering why you’re over here. The Gryffindor table is over there,” he said pointing. “In case you don’t remember.”

“I’m eating here today. Do you have a problem with that?”

Of course he didn’t have problem with that, but it wasn’t Draco having a problem with it that Potter needed to worry about. “I don’t have a problem with it. But they might,” Draco said gesturing to the entirety of the Great Hall.

Most of the students hadn’t stopped looking in their direction. A few students from the Gryffindor table were glaring at them, and Draco even noticed that a few teachers and Headmistress McGonagall were staring at the both of them curiously.

Potter scoffed with a mouth full of mashed potatoes. “I don’t care about the staring. Let them. I’m pretty used to it by now.”

“We’ll I’m not Potter. I’m trying to fly under the radar if you hadn’t noticed”

 “That’s the last thing you can do if you’re going to be friends with me Malfoy. I’m pretty above the radar if you hadn’t noticed. Well above it I’d say.”

Potter poured some gravy over his mashed potatoes. “Would you like some?” Potter asked gesturing the pot in Draco’s direction. Draco just stared at Potter and Potter poured some over his chicken. Potter set the pot back on the table. “So far, it seems like I’m the one putting the most effort into this friendship thing. You really should do better Malfoy.”

Draco scoffed. “I’m starting to think this friendship thing might’ve been a bad idea,” he said picking his silverware back up.

“What’s done is done. You shouldn’t have offered. You’re stuck with me now. I’m pretty loyal. Once I’ve made friends. I like to keep them.”

“I always knew you were a dog Potter,” Draco quipped.

“Woof,” Potter said, through a mouthful of food.

Draco grinned.

They ate their food as Potter made conversation with Draco every time Draco wasn’t chewing his food regardless of whether Potter was chewing his own or not. He talked with Draco about random things that had happened throughout the school day, with his hands flying while food simultaneously flew from his mouth. Draco had always figured that Potter had no table manners. He was delighted that he was right about Potter, but he found he didn’t mind watching him be so uncouth since it was Potter and not someone else.

Dessert came in after their dinner plates vanished from the table. Draco watched as Potter grabbed a scoop of vanilla ice cream and then proceeded to pile nearly every topping, bananas, cherries, caramel, chocolate sauce, nuts, and pretty much everything within his reach onto it. After piling on each topping as thick as possible, Potter proceeded to shovel the cold ice cream into his mouth. Draco shivered as he spooned his own ice cream into his mouth. His teeth were very sensitive to cold foods and he didn’t know how Potter managed.

Potter carried on their conversation while shoveling in ice cream as well. It was definitely no small feat, and certainly not pleasant to watch. It was quite a disgusting display, but Draco found Potter quite amusing. The man clearly didn’t care how he looked to other people.

Draco admired Potter for that, and wished he could be the same. He smiled at Harry and continued eating his own ice cream. Eventually Draco managed to focus only on his ice cream and Harry. Soon enough, Draco had forgotten all about the stares from the other occupants of the Great Hall.

****

           

Draco gathered his things into his bag. He quickly went through the common room, after giving a brief nod in Potter’s direction, he made his way towards the library. He had an essay he needed to catch up on for McGonagall’s advanced transfiguration class. He hadn’t even started it yet.

Draco walked swiftly with his head down and his grip tight on his bag. He looked up to see where he was going. He turned a corner and ran right into Headmistress McGonagall.

“Sorry Headmistress,” Draco apologized politely.

“Not a problem, Mr. Malfoy,” she replied.

Draco sidestepped her and made to continue on his way, when McGonagall called to him. Draco froze wondering what she wanted. As far as Draco knew, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

McGonagall chuckled behind him. “No need to look so frightened. I wish to speak to you Mr. Malfoy. If you’d follow me please?”

Though it had been a question, McGonagall clearly wasn’t really giving him an option about whether or not he wanted to speak to her. Draco hitched his bag up on his shoulder and followed her quietly.

The two of them had reached her office and McGonagall gave the password. They stayed still as the staircase spiraled them up to the top. Once at the top, McGonagall spelled open the door and allowed Draco to step in first.

Draco looked around the office. The first thing he spotted was Dumbledore and Professor Snape’s portraits. Draco was relieved that neither of them were in their portraits. Hopefully they wouldn’t return to them during his visit. He really didn’t want either of them over his shoulder while he spoke to McGonagall. He didn’t think he could take their eyes boring into him, probably wondering why he’d actually accepted McGonagall’s offer of coming back to Hogwarts. He already felt like enough live people were judging him every day. He didn’t need the dead doing the same.

Draco sat in the chair opposite McGonagall’s. He scanned the rest of the room. He’d been in this office several times when Dumbledore had been alive, especially when he was younger, usually for some mishap he’d been a part of with Potter. It was funny how much things had changed even though this office clearly had not.

McGonagall seemed to have kept most things the same according to Draco’s memory. There were a few additions, extra books maybe, a cat paperweight or two, but that was it. Other than that, McGonagall had kept everything the same. Right down to the small dish filled with Sherbet Lemons at the corner of the desk.

McGonagall must have noticed him staring at the dish. She offered him one, but Draco declined.

“I don’t particularly like those candies,” McGonagall told him. “But I keep them here. It seems to put the students at ease when they come here.”

Draco nodded. Speaking about Dumbledore these days always made him uncomfortable.

McGonagall didn’t linger on the subject thankfully. “I’m glad you came back to finish school.”

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“It was my pleasure. I believe in second chances. I think you deserved one Mr. Malfoy. So far you seem to have proven me correct in giving you one.”

Draco flushed, thinking about when Potter revealed that he accepted Draco’s metaphorical hand in friendship because he also thought he deserved a second chance.

McGonagall intertwined her fingers and placed her hands on the desk. “How are your classes going? Well, I presume?”

Draco nodded.

“Is everything going well in the dorms? No trouble? “

“Everything is fine,” Draco replied. Since when did McGonagall care so much about his wellbeing? “Everyone’s pretty much avoided me for the most part. It’s fine.”

“I’ve seen you with Mr. Potter a lot recently. You’ve become friends?”

Ah. That must’ve been why she had asked him for a chat. McGonagall wasn’t concerned about him. She was concerned about Potter befriending Draco. She wanted to warn him off Potter. Get him away from him before Draco corrupted him. Either that or she thought Draco must’ve had some sort of secret plot involving Potter. Making Draco think she cared and luring him into a false sense of security was just a tactic.

“We’re not that close,” Draco lied.  “Potter just talks to me sometimes. It’s nothing for you to be concerned about Headmaster. I don’t have any ulterior motives,” he said tightly.

McGonagall waved a dismissive hand. “I not concerned at all Mr. Malfoy. I was simply curious about how the two of you were getting on. It’s interesting to see the two of you finally getting over your intense rivalry. I actually think it’s good for you to have someone you can talk to in the castle and it’s good for Mr. Potter as well. I always thought the two of you could be good friends if you ever stopped antagonizing at every waking moment.”

Draco, still surprised by McGonagall’s unconcern said, “It was mostly me who did all the antagonizing really.”

“Regardless,” she said. “That’s all over now. I’m glad the two of you are capable of moving on. Do you have any other friends you can rely on?”

Draco shook his head. “Potter’s the only one.  In the castle at least,” he added.

“Well, we can’t let anyone come to the castle without an authorized visit approved from the Ministry. Things are pretty strict these days, but I can arrange a floo call for you if you’d like to speak with anyone back at home?”

Draco smiled “I’d like to speak to my friends if I could. I haven’t seen them in a while.”

“Okay. Give me the names and any contact information of the people you’d like me to contact,” she said pushing a piece of parchment and a quill in Draco’s direction. 

Draco wrote down Pansy and Blaise’s names.

“Give me some time and I’ll do the best I can to arrange a time for you to contact them. I’ll set up a time that’s best for them and for you. Once every thing’s arranged, you can come back here and use the floo to visit.”

“Thank you Headmistress. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome Mr. Malfoy. You may go now,” I don’t want to get in the way of your studies,” She said eyeing his bag. “Scurry along, but before you go, please know that you’re always welcome to come here and speak to me anytime. I’m here to help the students. All of you. If there’s ever anything you need, don’t hesitate to come see me.”

Draco nodded, grateful for McGonagall’s kindness. He glanced over in the direction of the portraits one more time before he turned and left the room.

****

           

“How the _lumos_ going?” Draco asked as soon as Potter entered the Room of Requirement.

“Not well,” Potter admitted. “I keep casting it with too much power. I’ve tried the distraction thing, but when I do that, I distract myself too much and I wind up not putting enough power into it at all. There’s either too much power, or not enough power. There is no in between.”

“We’ll keep working on it today then, “ Draco said.

Potter practiced casting his _lumos_ for a while. Draco watched from the sidelines and just like he said, there’s was no in between. When Potter cast with no distractions, the _lumos_ was too powerful and when he distracted himself, there was no connection between the spell and his magic at all. The only time Potter was able to cast the spell halfway correctly was when Draco distracted him slightly with a poke to the ribs like he’d done before.

Draco watched Potter keep casting and he watched him slowly become frustrated with his stilted progress.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Potter said defeated.

Attempting to distract Potter from his failures, Draco asked, “Would you be willing to do a demonstration for me? “ 

Potter looked at Draco curiously. “A demonstration?”

Draco nodded. “Will you show me?  How much power you have?”

Potter mulled it over. Then he shrugged. “Why not? What would you like to see me cast?”

Draco thought for a moment. “How about _expulso_?”

“Don’t you think that’d be a bit dangerous?”

Draco nodded. It would definitely be dangerous for harry to attempt to blow things up, especially inside Hogwarts. It would be a different story if Potter had more control over his magic.

“We could go outside. Onto the grounds,” Harry suggested. “If you really want to see me blow some stuff up, it would be better to do it outside, away from the castle.”

Draco agreed. “Good idea Potter. Let’s go then.”

They left the Room of Requirement and descended the few staircases to reach their dorm. It was fairly late, so fortunately, no one was in the common room. Draco and Potter snuck up to the rooms to gather a few things.

Once they reached the room, Potter grabbed the knob, turned it, and slowly opened the door. They didn’t want to risk waking any of their roommates up. This would be much easier with no one awake to ask questions.

Fortunately, the other men were all in their beds with the curtains drawn. Draco walked over to his trunk to grab a few things and Harry quietly walked over to his trunk as well. Potter opened his trunk and as he did so, the lid squeaked and Weasley pulled his curtains.

“What’s up mate?” He asked Potter.

“Nothing,” Potter responded. “I’m just going for a walk,” he lied.

Draco saw Weasley glance over in his direction and then turn back to Potter. Weasley chose not to comment on the fact that he and Potter were so obviously going on this supposed walk together.

“Don’t stay out too late,” Weasley told Potter. “And don’t let Filch catch you.” He then lay back down and closed his curtains.

Glad that was over, Draco grabbed his cloak and a small bag of marbles from the bottom of his trunk. He went over to Potter and saw that he too, had grabbed a couple of cloaks and what appeared to be some sort of muggle contraption he’s seen before, but didn’t remember the name of.

Once they’d gathered their things, they trudged down the stairs, through the common room and out of the portrait hole. Draco was all set, and started to leave, but Potter stopped him.

“What?” Draco asked.

Potter said nothing. He just smiled, grabbed Draco’s upper arm, and pulled him close to him. Draco was annoyed at Potter manhandling and slightly intrigued by being so close to him. Draco nearly leaned in closer so he could figure out what that alluring smell coming from Potter was, when Potter opened up one of the cloaks he wasn’t wearing. He placed it over his head and shoulders and then over Draco’s. An invisibility cloak?

Draco knew Potter had an invisibility cloak. He had run into Potter using it on several occasions, but he never thought he’d get to experience being under one first hand, especially not with Potter.

“I just thought it would be easier to sneak out of the castle. It’ll be way easier to sneak back in later too.”

Potter led the way. They easily made their way through Hogwarts corridors. Along the way. They passed a few staff members and a few students that were probably sneaking around just like they were, except without the aid of an invisibility cloak. Potter and Draco easily made it out of the castle.

Once out of the castle, they went around the grounds to a wide open area. Potter pulled the cloak from their heads and placed it on a nearby stump. He asked Draco to cast a silencing charm. Potter said he was capable of casting a notice-me-not spell and a few other spells he thought might be necessary.

Draco attempted to cast the silencing spell, but for some reason, it didn’t work. He stared at his wand, wondering why. He tried a couple more times and still, the spell didn’t work.

Potter finished his own spell work. “Everything okay?” He asked Draco.

Draco quickly said yes and tried the silencing charm again. To his relief, the charm worked. He hadn’t known what he had been doing wrong. He wrote it off as a fluke. He was extremely tired these days and perhaps it was starting to affect his magic too. Draco made a mental note to himself to get as much sleep as possible.

Potter took out the muggle device he brought out of his back pocket and placed it on top of his invisibility cloak. He turned it on and spun it in the direction of the clearing, illuminating the area in front of them.

“A flashlight,” Potter explained. “I figured it would be easier to use this instead of casting a _lumos_. You’ll be able to use your wand for something else if you need too.”

“I guess muggle inventions are good for something. Thank you for being so considerate of me Potter,” Draco said, only being mildly sarcastic.

“No problem,” Potter said. “It’s what I do. Now,” he said rubbing his hands together. What should I throw the hex at?”

Draco pulled the marbles he’d taken from his trunk out of his pocket. He enlarged them and transfigured them into stuffed toy marbles. He set one of them on the ground and took the other three and placed them on the ground several yards away.

Draco ran back to Potter and then gestured at the stuffed toys. “Have at it, Potter.”

Potter pulled his wand and cast an _expulso_ at on one of the toys. The toy blew up spectacularly with the impact of Potter’s hex. The explosion was loud enough to make Draco and Potter cover their ears. The toy itself blew up into what was probably millions of tiny little pieces of stuffing and fabric that rained down from the sky. It covered Draco, Potter, and the ground completely.

Potter had been knocked back off his feet from the blast. Draco walked over and offered him a hand up. Potter grasped Draco’s hand tightly and allowed Draco to pull him up from the ground.

“That was absolutely brilliant,” Draco told Potter excitedly. He had blown up stuffed animals and the like before, but anything he’d ever attempted had never been that huge of an explosion.

Potter smiled at Draco and Draco smiled back.

“Should I blow up the rest?” Potter asked.

Draco didn’t need to think about that one. “Oh yes. You definitely should.”

Draco grabbed the fourth toy from the ground and went to set it up right next to the other two. He watched as Potter got into his stance, wand at the ready.

“Wait a minute,” Draco said before Potter could cast the spell.

Potter looked at him questioningly.

Draco didn’t question what he was doing. He went up to Potter and stood directly behind him. He planted one foot behind himself to help himself and Potter brace for the kickback the spell would give off. He placed his left hand on Potter’s waist. He could feel Potter’s muscles tense under his fingertips, but he ignored it and placed his other hand over Potter’s wand arm, squeezing his forearm firmly.

In this position, Draco’s chin was practically resting on Potter’s shoulder, and Draco thought about the things he would give to actually just sink down into Potter and embrace him like this properly, but he ignored that too, and focused on what he was really trying to do.

“What are you-.” Potter began to say.

Draco cut him off, “It’s for stability. So you don’t fall back on the ground again. I don’t want you to get hurt just because I wanted you to show off for me.”

Potter nodded and took a deep breath. He cast the _expulso_ and instead of just blowing up one of the toys, Potter managed to blow up all three at the same time. Thanks to Draco, the kickback didn’t push them into the ground, but it did push Potter further into him. Draco dropped his hand from Potter’s arm, but he didn’t let go of him completely. Potter turned his head slightly in his direction and Draco could see the smile beaming from Potter’s face. Draco watched him. He was so excited and proud of himself. Potter looked absolutely gorgeous with the light from the flashlight creating a glow behind him and the confetti stuffing falling into his hair like freshly fallen snow. Draco’s heart beat faster. He realized that he really _really_ wanted to kiss Potter, right now, and wipe the smile off Potter’s face with his lips, but Draco didn’t. He let go of Potter and stepped back.

“That was great,” Potter said to him. “I didn’t know I could hit all three at the same time, but I tried it anyway and it was brilliant!”

“It was definitely the best thing I’ve seen in a while. Having all that extra power isn’t completely terrible.”

Harry agreed. “It’s certainly not.”

Potter turned and started cleaning up the messy field. Draco watched him as he cast cleaning spell after cleaning spell, clearing all the tiny bits of stuffing away. Draco sighed. He was starting to have more than friendly feelings towards Potter.  He really could curse himself for starting this whole friendship thing.

*****

Harry pulled his curtains and lay down in his bed with his hands underneath his head. He thought about what had happened out there on the field. He hadn’t expected that blowing things up would be so fun and thrilling. Well, he had, he was friends with Ron, who’s brother’s had been the masters of blowing things up, but he never thought that doing it with Malfoy would make it ten times better.

He turned over on his side. He closed his eyes in an attempt to wander off into sleep, but when he did, the only thing he could think of was Malfoy. And not only Malfoy, but specifically Malfoy standing behind him in the field. 

It baffled Harry how much he and Malfoy were completely comfortable with touching one another. Once they’d decided to become friends, personal space was apparently no longer an issue. Harry could swear that he and Malfoy had touched hands, arms, and wrists more often than he’d ever touched anybody in the more recent months. And tonight Harry had found himself practically in Malfoy’s arms. What should have been as simple as a hug had been very intimate and Harry hadn’t been that intimate with anyone ever.

When Malfoy had touched him, Harry had tensed up. Malfoy’s hands had been cold. No surprise due to the chilly weather. He’d held Harry in his arms and Harry had had a hard time breathing when almost every inch of his body was being touched by Malfoy in some way. Malfoy had told him that he was helping to keep Harry balanced.  Malfoy’s warm breath had caressed Harry’s ear when he told him that. The action had sent shivers through Harry’s body. He truly hoped that Malfoy hadn’t noticed his reaction, and if he had, Harry hoped he’d mistaken it for a cold chill.

Harry had cast the spell and like he expected, it knocked him back like it had the first time he’d cast it, but Malfoy had held strong and managed to keep them both standing upright. While Harry was glad that the force of the spell hadn’t sent them crashing into the ground, Harry wasn’t so glad that it had forced him back further into Malfoy’s embrace. 

At the further contact, Harry had instantly felt tingles of arousal shoot through his body and he felt himself start to harden. Harry was immediately embarrassed and laughed in hopes that his body would forget all about being pressed into Malfoy’s and calm down. Malfoy let go of him shortly after and Harry had further distracted himself from arousal by hurriedly cleaning the field.

Harry turned over on his back and pressed his palms over his eyes. He had ignored it before, but it was becoming all too clear that he wasn’t going to be able to get rid of or ignore his feelings towards Malfoy. Harry could have dealt with his initial attraction to Malfoy, but now he was getting to know him better, it was all too clear that Harry was capable of forming a real emotional attachment to him. A _real_ attraction and not just one that was born from feeling sorry for him. Malfoy had only wanted to be his friend, but here Harry was probably falling in love with him. Harry sunk back into his bed, wishing that he could just disappear into it.


	12. Chapter 12

A ringing near his ear woke Draco from sleep. Without opening his eyes, he reached for his wand underneath his pillow. He waved it around to disable the alarm charm, but it didn’t work. Draco sleepily waved his wand again, but it the damn thing still wouldn’t disable.

Annoyed, Draco cracked his eyes open and waved his wand again. He cast the disabling charm correctly, so why wasn’t it turning off? Frustrated by his inability to turn his wand off and also by the beeping that was emitting from it, Draco shook his wand a few times. He was sure shaking wouldn’t actually do anything at all, but his frustration took over his logical thoughts.

After shaking off a little of his frustration, Draco held his wand properly and attempted the disabling charm again. It finally stopped beeping and grating his nerves, thankfully.

Still slightly annoyed, Draco threw his wand at the floor. “Fucking piece of shite,” He said as he threw it.

Draco lay back in his bed for a few minutes, contemplating if there was somewhere he could get a new wand from. While thinking about a new wand, Draco realized that it might not have been a good idea to throw his current wand on the ground and just leave it there. He’d definitely be screwed if he lost it. Or worse, someone came by and stepped on it. A wonky wand was better than no wand or a broken wand.

Draco sat up. Or at least he tried to. He found that sitting up proved to be an extremely difficult task. His limbs felt strange. A prickly sensation that hadn’t been there when he’d woken up was running through him. Draco felt like all of his limbs had fallen asleep at the same time.

He shook his arms and legs as much as he could. He must’ve slept on them funny. While the numbing sensation ran through his body, Draco found it hard to move more than a centimeter or two while the feeling of needles pricking every inch of his body shot through him. A panicked sensation rose in his chest. What the hell was wrong with him?

Draco briefly thought about screaming to alert the other boys in the dorm that he needed some assistance, Potter would surely come to make sure he was okay, but the others might show up too out of sheer curiosity, and Draco didn’t want to have to handle the embarrassment.

He gulped and lay there for a few minutes. If his limbs truly were asleep, the problem would definitely resolve itself. Draco could hear the other boys getting up and getting out of bed and getting ready for the day. He heard footsteps come in his direction and Draco hoped it wasn’t Potter.

“You dropped your wand Malfoy,” Draco heard. It was Weasley.

“I-I know,” Draco ungracefully stuttered. “I’ll get it later.”

“I’ll just give it to you,” Weasley ignored him.

Draco tried to quickly think of something to say to Weasley that would make him decide to leave Draco’s wand where it was, but before he could, Weasley was there peering down at him.

Weasley offered Draco his wand. Draco was sure he was screwed, but attempted to reach out for his wand anyway while the prickly sensation still bubbled within him. To his surprise, he was able to slowly reach out and grab the wand from Weasley.

“Thanks Weasley,” He said as his arm dropped heavily to the bed.

Weasley gave him an odd look. He hesitantly asked, “Are you alright?” Draco could tell that Weasley wasn’t asking because he truly wanted to know. He probably just felt obligated to do so.

“I’m fine.” Draco said. “Thanks again Weasley.”

Dismissed, Weasley nodded, and left. Draco’s curtains dropped back into place, leaving Draco concealed once more.

Draco lay in his bed for several more minutes. Eventually he felt the tingling sensation fade away completely. He was capable of moving his arms and legs now and he felt perfectly fine, despite the pain he was feeling earlier. Draco sat up properly and rubbed at his eyes. He had no idea what had happened, but he fobbed it off. He could worry about it later since he was fine now. Draco still had to shower and he wanted to eat breakfast. He’d be late to class at this rate. He hopped off his bed and started his day.

****

Classes were finally over and Draco finally had some down time. He decided to go up to the Astronomy Tower. He had no particular reason for going, he just wanted to think. He had taken to going up there and sitting alone for a while. He always found it such a peaceful place when it wasn’t filled with students.

He hadn’t thought about what had happened to him that morning all day. He hadn’t had the time, with classes and all. The only time he’d had free between classes was lunch and he couldn’t think about it then either. Lunch was usually lunch with Potter talking his ear off. With how busy the day was, Draco easily pushed his worries aside.

In the Tower, Draco sat in his usual spot underneath the window. Now he had nothing to do, it was the perfect time to stress about what was possibly going on. Draco had a million questions and thoughts floating around his head. What exactly was going on? Was his wand acting up and did it need replacing? Was there something wrong with him?  Was it both of those things? It was all so strange.

A creaking noise echoed through the room. It sounded like someone stepping on one of the rickety floorboards. Draco looked over towards the entrance of the tower. Potter came through smiling.

“How did you know I was up here?” Draco asked.

“I have my ways.”

“I’m sure those ways include you stalking me, Potter. You know that’s illegal right?”

Potter shrugged. “I’m the Boy Who Lived. They’ll let me off easy.”

Draco shook his head.

“What are you doing up here anyway?”

“I like to come up here sometimes to get away from everyone and think a little.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Draco shook his head. “It’s okay. You can stay.”

Potter walked over and slid down on the floor next to Draco. Draco could feel Potter’s shoulder touching his and he could feel the heat radiating from his body.

“I haven’t been up here at all.” Potter spoke quietly, just above a whisper. “It reminds me of Dumbledore. I didn’t think I’d feel comfortable coming up here, but it’s not odd at all actually.”

 “I’m sorry, Potter.”

Harry smiled. “It’s not your fault.”

Draco disagreed. “I came up here to kill Dumbledore. I was planning on killing him all year, but Snape wound up doing it instead because I couldn’t. How can you say it’s not my fault?”

Potter looked at Draco seriously. Draco had to look away. Potter was staring at him so intensely. “It’s not your fault. You were supposed to kill Dumbledore, but you didn’t. Anyway, you might not know it, but Snape and Dumbledore had already planned it out. Snape was supposed to kill him when it all came down to it.”

“Regardless,” Draco said. “I still tried to kill him. I tried several times and failed.”

“When it came down to it,“ Potter said. “You had Dumbledore standing right in front you. Unarmed. You could have killed him, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. You couldn’t kill someone in cold blood Malfoy. That means something.”

Draco sat surprised. “How did you know that Potter?”

“I was there when it happened. I was underneath my cloak.”

“Oh,” Draco said, resigned. “It doesn’t mean anything though Potter. Dumbledore would have died before that night if I hadn’t been incompetent. I don’t even know how you could possibly look past that.”

Potter ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. “I don’t really know either, but I’ve chosen not to question why I’ve forgiven you for all the things you’ve done, but I’m glad I did. You’re nowhere near as bad I thought you were. I think you’re a good person. You’ve done some terrible things in the past, but you’re not doing them now, and you won’t do them again right?”

Draco nodded. He still wasn’t convinced that everything he’d done was okay, but if Potter wanted to look past it and move on, then who was he to tell him not to?

Draco pulled his legs up, wrapped his arms around them, and laid his chin on his knees.

“Are you okay?” Potter asked.

Draco turned his head to face Potter. He thought about whether or not he should answer that question and just be honest. In the end, he settled for telling Potter part of his problem. “I’ve been having some trouble with my wand.” What happened to him that morning was something he’d keep to himself for now.

“Oh?”

“It’s been weird ever since you handed it back to me. I’m having trouble casting spells. Sometimes I have to cast a spell multiple times before it works.”

 “How long has that been happening?”

 “It’s a fairly recent development.”

“Maybe your wand is broken? Honestly,” Potter said. “Before I gave you your wand back, it felt strange every time I touched it.”

“Really? I thought it felt odd when you gave it back to me, but it disappeared after I started using it again, so I didn’t think much more of it. The oddness went away, but now it doesn’t work all the time.”

“If we both felt something off, then maybe there is something wrong with it. We should get it checked out. Maybe get you a new one? We can take it to Ollivander.”

 “I can’t go to Hogsmeade,” Draco said waving his arm with the bracelet in explanation.

Potter hummed. “How long is your probation?”

“Two years.”

Potter mulled it over. “I can probably talk to someone at the Ministry. Pull some strings?”

“Don’t Potter. I don’t want you using your status to get me off the hook. It’s not right.”

Harry placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I want to. You should feel honored really. I rarely use my name for things, but I want to for you. That’s what friends are for right?”

Draco smiled at Potter. “Absolutely.”

“You know,” Potter said after a while. “There’s something I haven’t told you.”

“What is it?”

“You remember when I told you that I suddenly had a lot more extra power after the war?”

Draco nodded.

“You never asked how I got it.”

Draco looked at Potter seriously. “It’s not like I wasn’t curious Potter. I didn’t ask because I figured that if you wanted me to know, you would have told me. I don’t like prying. Unlike some people,” Draco hinted.

Potter smiled. “Sorry, bad habit. Seriously though, you could have asked if you were curious.”

“Okay,” Draco said dropping his hand to the stone floor, his little finger just close enough to touch Potter’s when Draco shifted slightly. Draco swallowed, but Potter seemed to have no reaction. “How did you get the extra power?”

If Draco wasn’t imagining things, Potter must’ve slid his hand over closer to his. They had barely been touching before, but Draco could definitely feel Potter’s hand up against his own now. Draco rapidly blinked a few times, but he didn’t move his hand away and neither did Potter.

Potter took a deep breath. “I got it from Voldemort after he died.”

Draco was surprised that he wasn’t surprised. “How did that happen?”

“I don’t know exactly, but somehow, when he died, his power transferred to me.” Potter paused. “I… really don’t like it.”

“You’ll be able to control it soon,” Draco said. “We’re working on it. It’s not a big deal.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Potter said.

“Oh?” Draco asked, an eyebrow raised. “What do you mean then?”

“I don’t like having Voldemort’s magic inside of me.” Potter shook his head. “It’s not just controlling it that’s the problem. Voldemort was horrible. He did terrible things to so many innocent people and he did it all with the magic I have now. Having Voldemort’s magic mixing around with my own…it makes me feel so…so,” Potter’s face screwed up. “dirty,” he finished.

Draco’s heart hurt when he heard that. He knew exactly how Potter felt. When the Dark Lord was alive, Draco could always feel the Dark Lord’s magic pulsing through him whenever he was summoned via the Dark Mark. After Draco had accepted the Mark and it had been branded on his skin, the Dark Lord laced a curse through it. A stinging pain shot through his arm every time the Dark Lord summoned his followers. The further away from the Dark Lord Draco was, the more it hurt. Draco could never pinpoint how he felt when the dark magic the Dark Lord used spread through his veins, but now Potter had voiced it, dirty-no- tainted, was exactly the right word for it.

Draco didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Potter’s hand and squeezed it tightly. Potter looked down at their hands before looking up at Draco wide-eyed.

“The Dark Lord is dead Potter. Any extra magic you got from him is no longer his. It belongs to you now,” Draco said firmly. “Any traces of anything horrid he ever did died with him. You are so inherently good Potter, it doesn’t matter where the magic came from or how it was used. It’s pure because it’s inside of you.”

Potter’s eyes watered, “Thank you,” he said. “I think I needed to hear that.”

Draco squeezed Potter’s hand one last time and let go. If he had been with anyone but Potter he’d be embarrassed right now, that he’d gone and said something so cheesy. It was true though. Potter was a good person. It didn’t necessarily need saying, but Draco resolved that he’d say it as many times as Potter needed him to.


	13. Chapter 13

Harry descended the owlery steps. He’d just finished penning a letter to the ministry about Draco’s probation. He wasn’t sure if they’d listen to him about shortening Draco’s sentence or get rid of it entirely, but Harry thought it was worth a try. Harry knew the Ministry wasn’t very fond of the Malfoy’s, so it wasn’t likely that they jump on the opportunity to provide any of them with a favor, unless bribed, but Harry figured that using his name had to count for something.

On the way back up to the dormitories, Harry looked out of a couple of the windows he’d passed. It looked to be a good day. It was early November, but the weather had been warmer recently. Going outside would only have required a warm cloak. Harry saw the leaves blowing in the wind, and thought that today might be a perfect day for flying. He hadn’t been out in a long while since he’d gone out with Ginny.

Harry spotted Ron in the common room.  “Hey, you want to go out flying with me?”

“Sorry,” Ron said. ”I’ve already made plans with Hermione.”

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Harry hadn’t spent much time alone with Ron recently. Ever since he and Hermione had gotten together they spent most of their time together. The three of them would hang out together on the occasion, but even when they did, the time usually consisted of the research they were doing in order to figure out how to get Harry’s magic under control. Harry shrugged. He’d just have to find someone else to fly with. Harry knew of the perfect candidate.

Harry opened the door to room and quickly looked to see if Malfoy was there. He was. Malfoy sat up against his headboard reading a book. Harry asked him if he wanted to go flying. Malfoy agreed immediately.

“We could just fly or we could play a seeker’s game?” Harry questioned.

Malfoy pulled his cloak over his shoulders. “Let’s just decide when we get out there.”

Once on the pitch, Harry released a borrowed snitch from the quidditch shed into the air. Both Harry and Malfoy straddled their brooms and kicked off the ground. For the first few minutes, the snitch was nowhere to be seen and Harry and Malfoy spent their time flying slowing around the pitch, Malfoy focused on finding and chasing the little golden ball, and Harry more focused on watching Malfoy than anything else.

Harry assumed that Malfoy had found the snitch, since he saw the man speed up and dive towards the Ravenclaw stands. Harry sped up too, and also caught sight of the snitch. Neither of them were close enough to catch it, but they both managed to stay within reach of each other. They chased the snitch around the pitch at high speeds for several minutes before Harry took a guess and predicted the snitch’s next move. He cut to the left and so did the snitch. Harry reached out and grabbed it, just as Draco reached out too. Harry reached it first.

Snitch in hand, Harry proudly lifted his arms in the air and celebrated his victory.

Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest and asked Harry, “Best two of three?”

Harry agreed. He let the snitch go, and it swiftly flew off in an unseen direction.

The seeker’s game continued on for a few more rounds.  Harry won each one of them. At some point, Harry had thought of throwing the game and letting Malfoy win at least one round, but he thought better of it. He was pretty sure Malfoy would be able to tell if he had thrown a game on purpose and wasn’t sure how Malfoy would’ve felt about Harry just letting in him win.

After one more round, Malfoy said he was tired and suggested that they land and take a break. Harry touched down to the pitch with Malfoy right behind him. They threw their brooms in a pile off to the side and took a seat on the grass. Harry couldn’t help but laugh when Malfoy made sure the cloak he was wearing was placed firmly under his butt before he sat.

They sat in silence, just staring out onto the grounds. Harry thought back to the last time he was out here on the pitch. He’d been with Ginny then and their time together hadn’t ended well. He was glad he was able to make things up with Ginny, but he was even gladder that instead of Ginny, it was Malfoy he was with.

Malfoy broke the silence. “How’s your girlfriend doing?”

Harry turned to Malfoy, surprised. “Girlfriend? What girlfriend?”

“Ginny Weasley? I saw the two of you out here a while back. Are things going well?”

Harry laughed. “I spend most of the day in class, another part of the day with you, and when I ‘m not with you, I’m with Ron and Hermione. How could I possibly have a girlfriend?” Harry asked incredulously. “How could I have a girlfriend I spend absolutely no time with?”

Malfoy shrugged. “I don’t know. I just had you pegged as a terrible boyfriend.”

Harry shook his head in amusement. “Ginny and I are friends. That’s all.” Harry placed both his hands in the grass and leaned back. “Ginny wanted more, but I didn’t want that. Not from her,” Harry added as an attempt to hint at Malfoy that he did want something more from someone. If Malfoy caught the hint, would he jump to the conclusion that it was him? “Do you have a girlfriend?” Harry asked Malfoy, hoping the answer was no.

Malfoy responded instantly. “The only friend I have at the moment is you Potter. How could I possibly have a _girl_ friend?”

Harry shrugged. “I thought maybe you and Parkinson might’ve had a thing. She seemed like she might’ve liked you.”

“Pansy and I have no romantic attachments. We did date for a few months, but that was ages ago. Pansy and I are much better off as friends. Nothing more.”

The thought of Parkinson having dated Malfoy sent a rush of jealousy through Harry. Not only did Harry hate the fact that she had actually gotten to be with the person Harry was smitten with at the moment, but if Malfoy had dated her, Harry saw the chances of Malfoy liking men-liking him-going down considerably.

“Is there anyone you want to date now?” Harry asked.

Malfoy fiddled with the collar of his cloak. “I’m planning on staying alone for now. There’s no one I like right now anyway.”

And just like that Harry’s chances had dropped down to zero. Harry managed not to sigh dejectedly and leaned back in the grass. He remembered doing exactly this when he’d been out here with Ginny. Except now, he guessed he was playing the role of Ginny, pining after someone he had no chance with. This must be how Ginny felt when she hoped he’d acknowledge her as a romantic partner.

Not long after Harry dropped back into the grass, Malfoy lay down beside him. He lay down just close enough for Harry to feel the heat radiating off his body, but not close enough to touch. Harry would be a liar if he said he didn’t enjoy Malfoy being so close to him, and he’d be even more of a liar if he said he wasn’t itching for Malfoy to move even an millimeter closer even after the not-quite rejection from earlier.

Harry looked up into the sky. There wasn’t much to look at. Harry was sure he could find a much better view. He turned over on his side and stared at Malfoy instead. The view was definitely much nicer. Harry spent much time over the days staring at Malfoy, but he found that he hadn’t spent much time taking in the man’s profile. It was times like this that Harry wished he could reach out and touch Malfoy. The pleasure he’d receive from tracing his features from his eyes, to his straight, slightly too pointy nose, to his lips would be incredible. Harry was sure of it.

Harry let all common sense fall from his mind and he actually lifted a finger to reach out and touch Malfoy.

“What are you staring at Potter?” Malfoy asked and Harry returned to his senses.

Harry flushed, embarrassed and sat up quickly. “Nothing,” he responded.

Harry watched as Malfoy sat up with his knees bent and his arms stretched out behind him. “Thanks Potter, “he said suddenly.

Harry knew Malfoy couldn’t possibly be thanking him for nearly staring a hole into his face. “For what?”

“For giving me a chance,” Malfoy clarified. “Of all people, you should probably hate me for the rest of your life, but you don’t, and I’m grateful for that.”

Harry stared at Malfoy. Malfoy stared at Harry in return. Malfoy’s face was open. His eyes were bright and he was genuinely smiling from ear to ear. Harry could tell that Malfoy was being truly sincere.

In that moment, Harry wanted nothing more than to kiss Malfoy, and so he did. Or at least he’d attempted to. Harry leaned over towards Malfoy. He tilted his head to the right and leaned in slowly, close enough to press his lips against Malfoy’s but Malfoy turned away from him. Harry sat straight up again, half embarrassed at Malfoy’s second rejection of him and half upset that Malfoy had turned away before Harry had made contact.

Malfoy didn’t mention it. He focused on the grass off to the side of him instead. Harry could see Malfoy pushing a few of the fall leaves into a small pile beside him.  Was Malfoy’s tactic to pretend that nothing had even happened? That pissed Harry off more.

“Malfoy,” Harry said hoping for some acknowledgement.

“Hmm?” Malfoy asked sounding absentminded. He didn’t bother to turn around.

 Harry stared at Malfoy as the man continued playing with the pile of leaves. Despite being annoyed at Malfoys reaction, Harry still very much wanted to kiss him. A thought popped into Harry’s head. The wrongness of his idea vaguely crossed his mind, but it didn’t stick around long enough for Harry to pay any heed to it.

In another attempt to gain his attention, “Malfoy,” Harry said.

“Hmm?” Malfoy responded. He still didn’t turn around.

Harry mustered up as much intent as he felt he could and said, “Kiss me.”

Malfoy did turn around then. His eyes were unfocused, his face blank. Clearly Harry’s attempt at imperiusing Malfoy had worked. Harry felt his stomach drop. A small part of him had wished that the curse wouldn’t work, but an even bigger part of him was glad that it did.

Malfoy blinked slowly. He sat up on his knees and stared at Harry, unemotionally.

“Malfoy?” Harry questioned.

Malfoy didn’t respond. He slowly leaned over and palmed Harry’s face. Harry gulped. This was it. Malfoy was going to kiss him. Harry watched Malfoy close his eyes and then he did the same. Not soon after, he felt the soft, gentle pressure of lips against his own, Harry sighed into the kiss. It was better than he’d expected it to be. He’d imagined what it might be like to kiss Malfoy several times before now, but realized his imagination could never do justice to Malfoy’s, warm, firm, slightly chapped lips actually making contact with his.

Harry felt a slight tingle run through his body. He wanted more than this. Harry wanted to press his lips deeper into Malfoy’s. He wanted to pry Malfoy’s lips apart and feel his tongue stoke against his. Harry pushed forward, but before the kiss could deepen, Malfoy pulled away.

Harry’s eyes popped open. Malfoy sat back. Harry wondered if the spell had broken, but it was clear that it hadn’t. Malfoy’s expression was still blank and unfocused.

Harry waited and watched. Seconds passed, and Malfoy’s vision eventually started to focus again, and his expression changed. Harry was still feeling slightly dazed and high after the kiss, but anxiety suddenly rose through Harry as he waited for Malfoy’s reaction.

“What did you want Potter?” Malfoy asked.

Harry’s eyebrows rose in confusion.

“You called my name. What did you want?”

Instantly, Harry’s anxiety flushed away. He was relieved. Malfoy hadn’t remembered a single thing.  “Oh?  It was nothing. Never mind.”

Malfoy watched Harry for a moment before he reached up and pressed a finger to his bottom lip. He squinted, and traced his lip with his finger before he shrugged. He stood up and grabbed his broom. “Let’s go back Potter. It’s getting a little too chilly out here, don’t you think?” Malfoy said as he offered Harry a hand up.

Harry stared at Malfoy’s hand. Malfoy was offering Harry a hand up, and Harry couldn’t help but think about the fact that Malfoy hadn’t offered him a kiss. Harry just took it from him. He had taken advantage of Malfoy and he was a horrible person for doing it.

He took Malfoy’s proffered hand. He hadn’t felt the chill before, but he certainly felt it now. Harry wrapped his cloak around his shoulders, but he didn’t wrap it too tightly. The cold bit at his face and his ears, but Harry was grateful that it distracted him from his growing guilt.

*****

Once in the entrance hall, Draco asked Potter if he wanted to head to the Room of Requirement, to practice working on his magic. When Draco had asked, Harry’s eyes had widened and he’d quickly fobbed off Draco’s suggestion, siting that he had “something he needed to do.”

“What do you need to do?” Draco asked Potter, curious.

Potter waved his hands and pushed his hair away from his forehead, revealing his scar for a few seconds. “It’s just something I forgot to do,” he said vaguely. “I should really do it now. I’ll see you later.” 

Potter scurried away without giving Draco the chance to respond. Draco watched him go, wondering why Potter was suddenly being so cryptic. He didn’t worry about it much though. He supposed that even friends, didn’t need to know everything the other was up to at all times. Privacy was a nice thing to have.

Draco shoved his hands in his pockets and headed off through the castle. He wasn’t quite in the mood to go back to the dorms just yet, so he went off towards the Astronomy Tower instead.

Once there, Draco sat on the bench and looked out the window. The Astronomy Tower had become his safe haven. It was nice and quiet most of the time and it allowed him time to think.

Draco thought about what he and Potter had been talking about on the pitch. Their love lives had been brought up and Potter has asked him if he was interested in anyone. Draco had outright lied and told Potter that there was absolutely no one, not a single person who had caught his eye.

Draco smiled to himself. How foolish he had been for lying to Potter. He could have told Potter the truth and told him there was someone he liked. He could have told Potter that he fancied him something terrible and that Potter was dredging up a bunch of feelings he never thought he’d have for Potter. He could have told Potter that he wanted a lot more than what friendship entailed, but who was Draco to even begin to think that he could ever have anything with Potter? Draco didn’t even know if Potter even liked men.

Entertaining thoughts of being with Potter were delusional at best. It was already crazy enough that Potter was capable of looking past everything Draco had done, especially the things he’d done to Potter. Asking for anything more than friendship from Potter was truly insane.

Even if Potter did like men, there was absolutely no way he’d ever date Draco. Potter could put his feelings aside and be Draco’s friend, but Draco was sure that friendship was the limit to Potter’s boundaries.

Draco didn’t even want to think about the public reaction to him dating Potter. Thinking about the sheer disapproval alone was enough to drive such thoughts out of Draco’s mind. Potter’s friends and his allies would absolutely hate the very idea of Draco dating their Boy Wonder. They’d insist that Draco must’ve put Potter under some kind of love potion or spell.

It wasn’t worth mentioning how livid Draco’s father would be. Lucius Malfoy’s son having romantic entanglements with the Vanquisher of the Dark Lord?  What a joke. Draco’s father would do everything in his power to tear them apart.

Draco’s plan for keeping his head down would be entirely blown once the paper got ahold of the news. It was one thing for Potter to be friends with an former Death Eater, but dating him too? The public would metaphorically, if not literally, hang Draco for even daring to lay hands on Potter and sullying The Boy Who Lived.

Dating Potter would be entirely too much trouble for the both of them, and that was trouble that Draco didn’t need on his hands right now. Draco didn’t know how he’d do it, but tamping down his feelings for Potter absolutely needed to happen and it needed to happen soon. Draco would remain friends with Potter, but he vowed to himself that he wouldn’t dare fall any deeper for him than he already had.


	14. Chapter 14

Another day led to another round of practicing Harry’s magic control in the Room of Requirement. A few days had passed since the imperius kiss incident, and Harry hadn’t thought much more about it. He’d seen Malfoy in classes, lunch, and in the dormitory like he always had, and nothing had changed.

Harry had completely rationalized the entire incident. The whole thing hadn’t been that big of a deal. He kissed Malfoy without his knowing, but that was okay. Harry resolved that he’d never do it again. It was also okay because Malfoy would never remember the incident in the first place. Harry was relying heavily on the logic that what Malfoy didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

So here they were practicing like usual. Harry had moved on. There was no longer any need to dwell on it.

Harry waved his wand and casted several spells in succession. He was of course, still having trouble with the spells that required more control, but Harry noted that he was capable of casting a few more spells properly than he could before. Since he had yet to figure out how he could channel only some of his magic, he always successfully used Malfoy’s distraction technique, without having to have Malfoy physically come and distract him. Just thinking about Malfoy himself was enough of a distraction, that Harry wondered why he wasn’t casting all his spells correctly while Malfoy was around.

Malfoy stood there quietly watching Harry’s progress. Malfoy hadn’t critiqued him too much this training session. He’d chosen to mostly watch Harry from the sidelines instead.

“Any tips?” Harry shot over to Malfoy.

Malfoy shook his head. “No, not really,” He tapped his fingers on his chin a few times. “The distraction technique is going well, but like I said before, you can’t do that all the time. Maybe we should do some research about channeling magic?”

Harry nodded. That wasn’t a bad idea. Hermione was still researching how to stop the Imperius Curse, but Harry didn’t know if she was doing any research about reducing the amount of power Harry drew from. “Yeah. We should do some research. Hermione’s already on it, but I think you should help us, and I should definitely help out a little more too.” Harry made a note to himself to have a talk with Hermione before Malfoy joined them for any research though. The last thing he wanted was for Hermione to let it slip that Harry was capable of imperiusing people.

“Good idea Potter,” Malfoy said. He uncrossed his arms and ran his hands down them.

“You cold?” Harry asked.

“A little,” Malfoy responded. “I guess since there’s no magic in the room, the room can’t regulate itself to a proper temperature. I’ll have to cast a warming charm.”

Malfoy whipped out his wand and casted a warming charm. Fortunately, the charm warmed the room. Unfortunately, it warmed it just slightly too much. Harry was sure he’d start sweating underneath his sweater in a minute. Harry tugged his sweater up and over his head and tossed it to the side. He unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up to his forearms.

Harry watched as Malfoy took his sweater off too, wondering if Malfoy knew how odd he looked taking his sweater off one sleeve at a time.  Malfoy unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled the right one up, but when it came to the left sleeve. He hesitated.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Malfoy replied and rolled his sleeve back down. He then reached up and undid a few of the buttons at his collar. Harry wanted to bask in the reveal of Malfoy’s Adam ’s apple and his sharp collarbone, but he snapped his eyes away from Malfoy’s throat and to his face instead when realization hit him.

Harry pocketed his wand. He went over to Malfoy whose eyes had widened when Harry had gotten close. Harry tugged on Draco’s left sleeve a few times, catching Malfoy’s bracelet in the process, and let it go.

“You can roll them up,” he told him. I don’t care. It means nothing.”

Malfoy stared at Harry seriously for a second before he looked down and undid the buttons at his wrist. Harry watched him roll his right sleeve up first. Once his right sleeve was settled in the crook of his elbow, Malfoy slowly started to push up his left sleeve. Harry watched as every inch of pale skin was slowly revealed until Malfoy’s Dark Mark was on full display.

“You don’t have to stare at it,” Malfoy said solemnly.

“I’m sorry,” Harry replied, but he still kept on staring.

Harry took Malfoy’s arm. Malfoy didn’t snatch his arm back or even make the slightest hint that he disapproved. Harry didn’t know what was possessed him to do so, but his mind told him he should touch Malfoy’s mark. He’d seen many of these things lining other Death Eaters arms throughout the years, even Malfoy’s, but he’d never wanted to touch one so badly until now.

Harry poised his fingers over the Dark Mark. He paused and looked up at Malfoy before he touched it. “May I?” 

Malfoy nodded once. Harry slid his fingers slowly up Malfoy’s arm, watching the man shiver as he did so. He hadn’t planned on tickling Malfoy, but he thought he should approach the mark slowly for some reason. He knew it was inactive now that Voldemort was dead and there was absolutely no magic left in them, but he cautiously went about touching it anyway.

Harry stopped his ascent up Malfoy’s arm until he paused about an inch away from the mark. It was dark and gray just like a normal tattoo. And like some tattoos he’d seen, Harry had to admit that it was a pretty ugly design. A skull with a snake circling in and around it?  It was definitely tacky and Voldemort definitely had terrible taste.

Harry felt bad that Draco’s skin would probably be marred by the tattoo for the rest of his life.  He thought of his own scar, given to him by Voldemort. Something that he too would probably keep forever.

Harry took the plunge and touched the mark. It was just as smooth as the rest of Malfoys arm. Harry felt no magic from it, no darkness of any sort. It was just skin.

Malfoy pulled his arm away and covered it with his right hand. “It would be nice if you didn’t  scrutinize the damn thing Potter.”

“Why did you become a Death Eater?” Harry asked suddenly.

“Does it matter?”

Harry shook his head. “No. It doesn’t really matter, but I want you to tell me anyway. I want to know more about you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it Potter. I’ve told you that before.”

“You should probably talk about it at some point, don’t you think?”

“No, Potter,” Malfoy gritted through his teeth.

Harry sighed. “Tell me,” he pleaded.

Malfoy’s face went blank before Harry even realized that he’d given Malfoy a direct command.  Harry’s eyes widened. The last thing he wanted was to put Malfoy under his spell again, but now it had happened, Harry had no thoughts of stopping it even if he could. Malfoy would tell him what he wanted to know now

“I wanted to impress my father,” Malfoy said. His voice was hollow and unemotional. “I got the Dark Mark because I thought I had to. I wanted to impress Father for so many years, I went and joined Voldemort because I thought Father would be impressed then. But I was stupid. Father paid more attention to me than he did before, but only to make sure I treated the Dark Lord with respect and did everything he wished of me.

“I regret taking the mark. If I could go back I’d never listen to Father. I’d never choose to follow in his footsteps. I hate myself for believing in everything my father told me and I hate myself for the things I did during the war. I think about them every time I see the Dark Mark.”

Harry wondered why the curse was allowing Malfoy to go into detail about the mark when Harry had only specifically asked about why Malfoy had taken it in the first place, but Harry didn’t stop him from continuing.

“You didn’t have a choice,” Harry said hoping to soothe the pain Malfoy must’ve felt.  He realized he was being completely contradictory to what he had told Malfoy before in their previous conversation about Malfoy becoming a Death Eater, but they were closer now and Harry truly believed now, that Malfoy wouldn’t have joined Voldemort unless he felt he absolutely had to.  “You really didn’t Malfoy. Your father was in too deep. Of course you got dragged into it.”

“There’s always a choice Potter,” Malfoy said.

 Harry thought he might have seen Malfoy’s blank expression change just slightly, but Malfoy’s face was just as blank as it was when this conversation had started. Harry’s mind must’ve been playing tricks on him.

“There’s always a choice,” Malfoy repeated. “My mother was never marked. She stayed with father and was involved with The Dark Lord’s plans as well, but she never got marked. I could have refused. I could have said no. Even if my father disowned me and kicked me out of the Manor, I could have said no. I could have asked Dumbledore for help, even if it killed me, but I didn’t. I’m not like you Potter. I wasn’t brave enough. I made my decision and I’ll have to live with it for the rest of my life.”

Malfoy said nothing more. Harry didn’t prompt him to either. He didn’t know what to say to that. Several silent beats passed and Malfoy came back to himself. Harry stared at him, wondering if he remembered anything that had happened or anything he’d said, but Malfoy showed no signs of remembering their conversation.

“I’m not going to tell you Potter,” Malfoy said, answering Harry’s request from before he’d been imperiused. And that was it. The case was closed. Malfoy pulled his sleeve back down, covering his mark and he and Harry got back to work.

*****

Days had passed since Harry had questioned Malfoy about the mark in the Room of Requirement. They hadn’t been there since, though they still met outside of it. Harry had suggested they’d go and get some practice in over the past two days, but Malfoy had claimed he had lots of homework to do and never told Harry when he’d have time to meet. Harry didn’t bring it up at any other time of the day.

It was a Hogsmeade weekend and Harry asked Malfoy if he wanted to go. They hadn’t spent any time together outside of Hogwarts and Harry wanted to get to know Malfoy outside of Hogwarts’s stone walls. Plus he’d been paying extra attention towards Malfoy after Malfoy unknowingly spilled his feelings about being a Death Eater. Harry wanted to take him out and cheer him up.

Malfoy looked at Harry like Harry had lost his marbles. “I can’t Potter. The bracelet. Remember?” Malfoy asked while dangling his wrists in front of him. “I already told you I’m not allowed in Hogsmeade.”

Harry wanted to kick himself. He’d forgotten all about the bracelet. How he’d forgotten he didn’t know, seeing as that bracelet was practically a handcuff around Malfoy’s wrist. Harry wasn’t going to cheer Malfoy up if he kept reminded him of the things he wasn’t allowed to do. Harry made a mental note, to send another letter to the ministry about Malfoy’s probation.

“I’m sorry. I completely forgot.” 

Malfoy raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Of course you did Potter. You’ve always been a bit self-absorbed.”

“I can bring you something back?  A book? Some chocolate from Honeydukes?”

“No thank you Potter.  I don’t want anything. I’m fine.”

“We should meet again soon. In the Room of Requirement,” Harry added.

“Of course Potter. Whenever you want to, we can.”

Harry started to go, but at the last minute he turned back around. He chewed his bottom lip.

“What Potter?” Malfoy asked curtly.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “For?”

Harry swallowed. “For asking you about your Mark. You said before that you didn’t want to talk about it, and I kept insisting even though it clearly makes you uncomfortable. I won’t ask about it again.” Harry ignored the twinge of guilt that reminded him that he’d never ask Malfoy about it again, because he already knew enough.

“Apology accepted,” Malfoy smiled at him. Malfoy licked his lips. “You know, I’ll probably tell you all about it one day Potter. No need to push. You’ll know when I’m ready.”

Harry forced a smile and hoped Malfoy didn’t realize he was faking it.  “Okay. You tell me when you’re ready. I won’t push anymore.”

“Good. Now go on Potter. I’m sure your friends are waiting on you,” Malfoy shooed him away.

****

Harry rushed out of the castle. He was supposed to meet Ron and Hermione at 1:00. He had already been running late before he’s stopped and spoken to Malfoy and after their chat he was running even later now.

Once outside, Harry saw Ron and Hermione sitting on the steps that led up to the castle. He slowed to a stop behind them and poked them both in the shoulder.

Ron looked at his watch. “Late as usual. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Harry wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. He pulled his wool gloves from one of the pockets and quickly put them on. It was way too cold outside to go bare handed.

 “I’m sorry,” he said rubbing his hands together to warm them up some. “I stopped to talk to Malfoy. We can go now. If you guys are in a hurry.”

“We weren’t,” Hermione responded. She stood up and grabbed Harry’s arm. She did the same to Ron when he stood up. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

In the Three Broomsticks, Harry offered to get the drinks while Ron and Hermione grabbed them a booth in the back corner of the bar. They’d often sat there whenever they came to the Three Broomsticks. No one paid too much attention to anyone way back there. Whoever sat there, tended to go unnoticed and it was in full view of the door, so Harry could spot any potential enemies who might walk in. There probably wasn’t much need for that now that the war was over, but old habits died hard.

Harry approached the table with three butter beers. He placed them on the table and Hermione and Ron reached out and grabbed theirs. Ron scooted over and allowed him to sit down. Harry took a seat and took off his gloves, scarf and hat. It was pretty warm in the Three Broomsticks despite the freezing temperature outside. He took a sip of his butterbeer and enjoyed the warm pleasant sensation that slid down his throat as it warmed up the rest of him.

“It’s so good to see that things are going well here,” Hermione said.

Harry nodded. “Yeah. It’s great that they managed to get this place fixed up.”

The three of them had been to Hogsmeade several times since school got started again, but they had yet to go to the Three Broomsticks. The place had apparently taken a whole lot of damage from the Death Eaters during the war, and the bar had been shut down for an extended period of time. Harry thought the bar might have been shut down indefinitely, but it was great to see that the place was able to get back up and running again.

“It looks exactly the same,” Ron stated. “You wouldn’t know the place had practically been destroyed if no one told you.”

Harry and Hermione nodded in agreement.

Hermione sat down her butterbeer and rubbed her hands around the mug. “Malfoy didn’t want to come?” she asked Harry.

Harry shook his head. “It’s not that he didn’t want to. He’s not allowed to. He’s on house arrest. There’s only so many places he can go, and Hogsmeade isn’t one of them”

“That’s too bad,” Hermione replied.

“How’s hanging out with the ferret?” Ron asked.

Harry gave him a look.

Ron just grinned. “Seriously mate, have you lost your mind?” Ron teased.

“I haven’t,” Harry replied. “Malfoy’s been cool so far.  I think we can be really good friends. He wants to help me do some research actually. He thinks it would be a good idea to find out if there’s a way to channel my magic in order to lessen the power that comes out when I do spells. Maybe we can all research it together soon?”

“Sure Harry,” Hermione replied.

Ron nodded.

“Just make sure not to mention anything about the other thing,” Harry said hoping the two would catch on to what he was saying. Hermione was sure to have cast a privacy spell when they’d sat down, but Harry didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing anything about the Imperius Curse.

“Of course we won’t,” Ron said. “Who knows what Malfoy might do with that information.”

Harry shot another look in Ron’s direction. “Could you tone it down a bit please? I’m going to be friends with Malfoy whether you like it or not, and I’d rather not listen to you rag on him every time I bring him up.”

Ron blushed. “Sorry mate. I’m just teasing, alright?  I’ll stop.”

“Good,” Hermione chimed in.

“It is crazy that the two of you are friends though. Now you want me and Hermione to be friends with him too. Are you sure friendship is all you want?”

Harry licked the foam from his upper lip. “I’m not asking you two to be friends with him, though that would be nice. I just want you to be civil,” Harry squinted at Ron. “And what do you mean is friendship all I want?”

Hermione elbowed Ron in the side. “Hush Ron.”

“No tell me.”

Ron huffed and put on an amused expression like whatever it was he was about to tell Harry was going to be the most amusing thing he’d hear all day. “Well, Hermione and me were talking about you and Malfoy being friends the other day, and we wondering if you wanted to be more.”

Again Harry asked what Ron meant.

“It just seems like you’re getting along well with Malfoy. You know, maybe you want to be his boyfriend and not just his friend.”

Harry’s face heated up and he grabbed his butterbeer. He took a sip and managed to get it down without choking on it. He gained a little composure. “Why would you think that?”

Ron shrugged. “I’ve been wondering about you for a while now. I’ve been around you a lot and you never seem that interested in anyone Harry. You never seem like you notice anyone who might be interested in you. You’ve turned down anyone that’s even attempted to ask you out and you passed on Ginny.”

Had it been that obvious that Harry was entirely uninterested in anyone? He knew that he wasn’t interested in anyone but Malfoy, but had his friends caught on as well?

“Well, Harry has been busy with Voldemort after him every year,” Hermione argued.

“Yeah, but me and you managed to get together and we’ve been right alongside him most of the time.”

“But me and you were always around each other as well,” Hermione pointed out. “There’s not a fourth person around for Harry to have fallen for.”

“True,” Harry said.

“Still,” Ron said. “I still think Harry might be into Malfoy. Like I said, he’s never shown much interest in anyone, but he pays a whole lot of attention to Malfoy.”

“Ron,” Hermione chided. “You can’t go around deciding how people feel for them. Who are you to tell Harry who he has a crush on?”

“Well, I’m his best mate. I’m just trying to help him out really. He’s so oblivious maybe he doesn’t know he likes Malfoy. If I tell him, maybe he’ll do something about it.”

Harry and Hermione laughed at Ron’s ridiculousness.

The laughter died down after a moment. Harry stared into his mug and ran his finger over the condensation that formed over the glass. He wondered what they’d say if they knew he really did like Malfoy. If they’d known he’d actually been in love with him for ages. “What if I did like Malfoy?” Harry asked, breaking the silence.

Hermione and Ron both placed their mugs back on the table and stared at Harry.  The surprise on their faces died after a few seconds.

“Then we’d wish you the best in pursuing him if that’s what you wanted,” Hermione told him. “If you trust him, then it’s okay with us. We trust your judgment Harry.”

“If that’s what you want mate,” Ron paused. “Then go for it.”

Harry smiled and finished off the rest of his butterbeer. “Should I get another round in?” He asked. His friends nodded and he returned to the bar thinking all the way about how great his friends were.


	15. Chapter 15

Draco rode the staircase up to McGonagall’s office. At the door, he knocked three times and waited for an answer. McGonagall opened the door and smiled. Draco smiled back politely.

He glanced over in the direction of the portraits and noted that once again, Dumbledore and Snape were nowhere to be found. He briefly wondered what sort of activities the people in portraits got up to. They weren’t real after all, just recreations of the dead more or less.

McGonagall led Draco over to the fireplace. Perhaps the excitement of speaking to his friends had gotten the better of him, for he suddenly felt dizzy on his way over. Draco stopped and placed a hand to his forehead. He steadied himself and breathed a few deep breaths until the dizziness subsided. He opened his eyes when it passed.

McGonagall stared at him, worried. “Are you quite alright, Mr. Malfoy?”

Draco assessed himself. Despite a few seconds of panic, he felt perfectly okay now. “I’m fine,” he told her. Draco was sure he was okay. He was probably just hungry. He hadn’t been able to eat much today after all. He had been waiting on tenterhooks all day, thinking about talking to Blaise and Pansy. His nerves hadn’t let him stomach too much food.

“Are you sure  you’re okay?”

Draco nodded firmly. “Thank you for setting this up for me.”

“You’re welcome,” McGonagall said. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Draco silently thanked the Headmistress once more for allowing him a few moments of privacy. He threw a handful of powder into the fireplace and called out Blaise’s address. Shortly after, Blaise’s head popped up from the fire and Pansy popped up right alongside him.

Draco beamed. His friends both looked happy and healthy. Blaise looked as handsome as he always had. His perfect straight, white teeth, stood out as he smiled from ear to ear. Pansy had decided on a drastic change and dyed her hair blonde. Draco wasn’t surprised that she’d chosen such a bold color so different from her own naturally dark locks, but he was surprised how horribly it clashed with her complexion. Draco wasn’t going to tell her that though. She’d be beyond upset and an angry Pansy was not something he wanted on his hands.

“Oh Draco, I missed you so much!” Pansy shouted.

“I missed you too,” Blaise said much more calmly. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been well. I wish the two of you had come back to school with me.”

“Darling, we’ve been through this. We would have, but Hogwarts wasn’t the place we needed to be,” Pansy said.

“Look at the bright side. Hols are coming up soon and we can see each other then. Don’t be so down about it,” Blaise said.

Draco pouted. “I’ll look forward to it then.”

“How’s the school been treating you?” Blaise asked. “They’ve not been bullying you or anything right?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry your pretty little head Mum, nothing’s happened.”

“That’s good to hear. Has my Drakey-poo made any new friends then?” Blaise played along.

Draco physically cringed. Then he thought about his newfound friendship with Potter. “There has been a very interesting development,” Draco teased. He paused and watched the intrigue that crossed his friends faces.

“And?” Pansy urged.

Draco dropped the bomb. “I’m friends with Potter now.”

Pansy gasped exaggeratingly. Blaise took a note from Pansy and gave Draco an over exaggerated shocked face.

“Potter? As in Harry Potter?” Pansy asked. “The Gryffindor? Defender of the Light and Vanquisher of Evil? That Potter?”

Draco crossed his arms over his chest smugly as if befriending Potter was some huge feat. While many had tried and failed, Draco had managed to conquer.

“I can’t believe it. You’re really friends? Like _friends_ friends,” Blaise clarified. “You talk and hang out and stuff?”

Draco said nothing, but he nodded.

“Good for you Draco,” Pansy congratulated him.

Blaise nodded. “Definitely good, Draco. You’ve finally managed to get into Potter’s trousers.”

“Don’t be so crass Blaise,” Pansy chided. “I’m sure there’s absolutely no trouser getting into…yet.” Pansy and Blaise guffawed like Pansy had just made the funniest joke in the history of wizard-kind.

Draco sighed, annoyed at the audacity of his friends. “There won’t be anything of the sort going on.”

“Why not?” Pansy asked. “You’ve been smitten with him since fourth year.”

“Probably before,” Blaise added.

Draco huffed. It was a wonder he actually put up these two. They were insufferable really. “I was never smitten with Potter,” Draco denied.

Blaise and Pansy both looked at him in disbelief.

“Really. I wasn’t.” Draco said. “Anyway, we’re friends. Nothing more.”

“But you want to be more than that?” Blaise asked.  Draco looked away. His friends were far too adept when it came to reading him. “I do.” he admitted.

The atmosphere in the room shifted.

“Oh Hun,” Pansy said. “I wish I could come through and hug you. You look so sad.”

 “Why don’t you go for it Draco?” Blaise suggested.

“I don’t know how Potter feels,” Draco said solemnly. “Even if by some miracle, he actually felt the same way, there’s no way we can be together. I’m sure no one would approve.”

“You shouldn’t give a flying _fuck_ whether people approve or not,” Blaise said heatedly. “It’s not for them to approve of. If you want Potter, then you should be with Potter,”

“But-,” Draco attempted.

Blaise continued. “The war’s over. You shouldn’t dwell on whether or not people will approve of your actions. It doesn’t matter what you do in the future, there’s always going to be people who hate you for what you’ve done, or for your name. They’re going to hate you regardless. Don’t give up on something you want because you’re worried about how other people might react to it. If they don’t like you with their Golden Boy,” Blaise shrugged. “Fuck ‘em.”

“Blaise is right,” Pansy told Draco. “Have Potter if Potter wants you too. You don’t have to be miserable for the rest of your life Draco. I don’t want to see you like that.”

Draco pressed his palms down hard into his knees. His throat hurt and his eyes watered. The unflinching support from two people he loved was almost enough to break his dam. Draco squeezed his eyes shut before asking quietly, “What if Potter doesn’t want me?”

“Well,” Pansy said simply, “Then he’s an idiot.”

Draco chuckled. “I tell him that all the time.”

The light atmosphere returned and Draco continued talking to Blaise and Pansy for the better part of an hour. Once their conversation was over, Draco ended the floo connection and stood up from the floor. He nearly toppled over after he stood, and quickly grabbed onto the mantle to keep from falling over. He’d been sitting with his legs crossed for far too long. Draco massaged his legs for a minute.

Once he was sure he was capable of walking properly, Draco made his way over to the door, but before he left, he heard his name called. It sounded an awful lot like Dumbledore.

Draco sighed and turned around. Dumbledore was there, back in his portrait and Snape was also back in his. He greeted them both respectfully, hoping they couldn’t see through to his annoyance.

“It’s good to see that you’re well,” Dumbledore said.

Draco could tell that the man really meant him no ill will. How could he manage to be so cheery even after he faced the person that had ultimately led to his death? It could be the fact that the portrait Dumbledore wasn’t real, but Draco was sure that even it were real, Dumbledore would still be the same.

“I am also glad to see that you are well, Mr. Malfoy. I had feared you might have been imprisoned or worse.” Professor Snape said.

Dumbledore stroked his beard. “Severus and I just got back from visiting some of the other portraits.”

Draco glanced over and saw Snape’s face of distaste accompanied by a rolling of his dark eyes. Draco was sure Dumbledore had dragged the man there.

“It’s great that we’ve come back just in time to catch you. We won’t keep you long, of course.  We couldn’t help but to overhear your conversation.”

Draco’s eyes widened. It was bad enough that Dumbledore kept referring to himself and Snape as one entity, but even worse knowing the two of them might have overheard him practically admitting that he’d fallen head over heels for Potter.  It was absolutely embarrassing

To Draco’s relief, Dumbledore didn’t mention Potter at all. “Forgive yourself Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore said. “That’s the first step.” Draco waited for Dumbledore to add on to that statement, but he didn’t. Instead, he said he and Severus were leaving again. “Forgive us, for being abrupt, but we’re having tea with Mrs. Abernathy’s portrait over by the Hufflepuff dorm. We must not be late. She won’t give us any of her famous gingersnap cookies if we’re late.”

Snape groaned as Dumbledore forced his way into his portrait, grabbed him and dragged the two of them out of the frame.

Draco continued to stare at the portraits long after the two of them had left. He stood there rolling Dumbledore’s words around in his mind. _Forgive yourself_. Draco nodded sternly.

*****

Harry trekked through the castle alone. Ron and Hermione had wanted to stay a little longer in Hogsmeade and Harry had politely ducked away to give the couple some time alone. He wanted to meet with Malfoy anyway.

Harry debated for a an entire week on whether he should tell Malfoy how he felt or not. At the end of his deliberations he decided that telling him how he felt was the best course of action. He was nervous and scared about what Malfoy’s reaction might be, but Harry was a Gryffindor. He couldn’t let fear get in his way. Being brave didn’t mean being fearless. It meant doing things anyway, despite being scared, so that’s what Harry would do. He’d take the plunge and tell Malfoy that he really _really_ liked him

Harry and Malfoy had already agreed to meet in the Room of Requirement. It was nearly time to meet, so Harry rushed up to the seventh floor. The room was just as empty as it ever was. Harry took off his winter cloak and gloves. It was a little chilly, but Harry’s nerves were making him warmer than usual so he could barely feel the chill.

He checked his watch. There was about a minute left before he and Malfoy had scheduled to meet. He dropped his arm and Malfoy came through the door. Right on time.

“How was Hogsmeade?” Malfoy asked.

“It was fun,” Harry said smiling and shoving his hands in his pockets. “It would have been nice if you’d been able to come.”

“You said that last time too.”

Harry shrugged. “Well, I mean it, so…” Harry trailed off and licked his lips. It was as good a time as ever to confess, but he bottled it when Malfoy said they should get started. Harry spent the next few minutes distracted, thinking about when the best time to bring up his feelings would be. Funnily enough his distraction made his spells better and he actually managed to cast a few properly with just enough power.

“Congrats, Potter,” Malfoy said clapping. “Looks like you might finally be getting the hang of this. Did you figure out how to channel less magic?”

“No actually,” Harry said. “I’m just distracted.” Since Harry had already brought up being distracted, now was a perfect time to talk about why he was, while he had Malfoy’s full attention. “Can I talk to you Malfoy?”

Malfoy lifted an eyebrow. “You already are, Potter, but sure.”

Harry tucked his wand away in his pocket. He should have kept holding it. Now he didn’t have a security blanket to distract him from how nervous he was feeling. He fidgeted with his fingers instead. Harry bit his lip and scratched his head. He really wasn’t feeling up to this. It was quite funny to him really. He’d faced Voldemort countless times and he couldn’t even work up the nerve to reveal his crush. His heart was beating so fast he thought the anxiety might kill him.

“What wrong?” Malfoy asked.

Harry shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong. I just have to tell you something.”

Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest. “Well go on. This conversation doesn’t need to last all day”

Harry swallowed the little bit of saliva that hadn’t dried up due to his nerves. He took a deep breath and blurted out, “I like you!” Actually, Harry was quite sure he didn’t just like Malfoy. He was pretty sure he loved him, but admitting he liked Malfoy was hard enough. Full on _love_ was too much to confess to right now. Harry’s felt his face flush. He must’ve turned as red as Ron did when he was embarrassed. He didn’t look at Malfoy for his reaction. He made sure to focus on a spot on the wall behind him.

“What?” Malfoy asked.

“I said I like you,” Harry managed to say firmly this time.

“As a friend right?”

Harry’s skin got warmer. “Of course I don’t mean like a friend. Like more than that.”

“More than that?” Malfoy questioned again.

Harry felt mild annoyance rush through him along with embarrassment. Malfoy must’ve been teasing him. There was no way he didn’t understand what Harry was trying to say to him.  “I mean,” he sighed. “I _like_ you like you.” Harry almost rolled his eyes at how childish he sounded. Of course Malfoy wasn’t taking him seriously when he was acting like a grade school student. Harry finally looked at Malfoy and stared directly into his eyes. “I like you Malfoy. Romantically.”

“Really?” Draco asked.

_Really?_ That was all Malfoy had said. Not to mention that he’d said it with not a single decipherable emotion on his face. Harry looked away again. He shouldn’t have said anything at all. He wouldn’t have if he’d known that _really_ would have been Malfoy’s only response.

Harry lowered his head, and backed away from Malfoy, now fully embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. He rubbed his left arm frantically.  “I never should have said anything.”

Malfoy grabbed Harry’s hand and stopped his attack on his arm. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I like you too, Potter. Romantically,” he added mockingly.

Harry’s eyes widened. “Really?” He asked echoing Malfoy’s earlier question.

“Yes, really,” Malfoy said nonchalantly. “Now let’s get back to work, shall we?”

All traces of embarrassment disappeared and Harry couldn’t get rid of the grin that plastered his face. Malfoy liked him back. That was absolutely brilliant. But now what? Shouldn’t they have talked about this new development? Harry had never been in a real relationship, so he wasn’t sure what exactly was supposed to happen next. Were he and Malfoy dating now? Were they boyfriends? Were they finally going to stop calling each other by their last names?

Malfoy interrupted Harry’s train of thought. He reached into Harry’s pocket, pulled out his wand and placed it in Harry’s hand. “You’re thinking way too much about this Potter. Just act like normal, okay?” And with that, Malfoy leaned in and kissed him.

Harry was surprised at the sudden sensation of Malfoy’s lips against his own, but once the shock wore off, Harry sunk into it. It was a sweet and gentle kiss and Harry was enjoying every bit of it. Harry instinctively opened his mouth and he felt Malfoy’s tongue trace his bottom lip. The movement flashed an image in Harry’s mind and he was suddenly thinking back to the quidditch pitch. This wasn’t their first kiss, but it was most certainly the first one Malfoy was actually “present” to take part in.  Shame shot through Harry and he broke the kiss abruptly.

Malfoy hadn’t seemed to notice Harry’s quick retreat. He backed away with a smile and gestured for Harry to continue his practice.

Harry held up his wand arm and cast. Just like earlier, he was capable of casting a few spells almost perfectly, but this time, the cause of his distraction was the guilt that ate him up inside.

****

Draco hadn’t thought far enough ahead to figure out how he’d approach Potter. He had listened to Pansy and Blaise’s words and had decided he’d risk it all and tell Potter about his crush, he just hadn’t figured out how or when he would. Thankfully for him, he no longer had to worry about it. Potter always was one for surprises.

He and Potter had planned a practice session and Draco had spent most of the session trying to work up the nerve to tell Potter how he felt. He expected nothing less than rejection, so it was taking him a while to get around to it. Draco had been just about ready to squash the idea entirely and not tell Potter a damn thing.

Wondering about Potter’s reaction was making him far too nervous, but then Potter sprung it on him.  He liked Draco. Draco had been shocked initially, he was glad he had had so much practice hiding his emotions, but Draco was utterly relieved that he didn’t have to take the imitative and confess. Draco felt extremely lucky that Potter apparently felt the same way he did.

Draco didn’t give a proper response and he watched as Potter subsequently worked himself into a tizzy. He finally put the man out of his misery and confessed that he too, had been harboring a crush.

After that revelation Potter had worked himself into even more of a frenzy and Draco pretty much had no choice, but to calm Potter down with a kiss. Draco had never thought too hard about what it might have been like to kiss Potter. He hadn’t ever wanted to get obsessed over some fantasy that was probably never going to happen. At the end of the day, he was glad he hadn’t, because no dream could have ever prepared him for it. Kissing Potter was an absolute relief. The kiss hadn’t lasted long at all, Draco assumed he was moving a tad too fast for Potter, but the kiss was brilliant nonetheless.

After the kiss, they finished their practice session and Potter; the romantic git suggested they take a walk around the lake. Draco ran to the dorms to fetch his winter gear and met Potter at the Hogwarts entrance. Potter stood there half leant up against the door, with his hands in his pockets. He looked up when Draco met him and smiled. Draco smiled back and once again reminded himself of how lucky he was that things had worked in his favor.

The two of them walked outside into the chilly air. There were still a few daylight hours left. Aside from the occasional student walking by every now and then, the two of them were completely alone. No one else was outside despite it being nowhere near curfew. It made sense though. It was cold as ice outside, not exactly a day for a walk on the beach, or by the lake as it were, but Draco could barely feel the winter air. There was so much warmth radiating through his body due to the giddiness he was feeling being out with Potter.

They walked slowly side by side. Gloved hand in their pockets. Draco looked over at Potter. He was all bundled up. A Gryffindor scarf was wrapped tightly around his neck and mouth; a thick beanie covered his head and most of his ears. Draco could see a few strands of Potter’s hair peeking out from underneath it.

Potter kept staring straight ahead, so Draco unabashedly looked at Potter some more. He noticed Potter’s glasses had fogged up after a while.

“Wait,” Draco said. Potter stopped. “Hold on.” Draco pulled Potter’s glasses from his face.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Draco pointed his wand at Potter’s lenses and cast and anti-fog charm. The fog cleared from them instantly. Draco went to put Potter’s frames back on his face, but he stopped before he did. He took the opportunity to really look at Potter. He realized he’d never seen him without his glasses before. Staring at Potter sans glasses, Draco also noticed that Potter looked really stupid without them. Draco smiled to himself. He should really tell Potter that. And so he did.

“You look really stupid without your glasses Potter.”

Potter huffed. “It would be nice if you’d give them back then.”

Draco was in no hurry to return them. Although Potter looked strange without them, Draco knew he’d love to see him without them more often. Potter’s brilliant green eyes reminded him of the jade earrings his mother had been so fond of once upon a time. His eyes were framed by long black eyelashes that fanned against his cheeks every time he blinked. Potter had never been particularly gorgeous in Draco’s eyes, but Draco could stare at him all day and never get tired. Draco tucked the stems of Potter’s glasses over his ears and pushed the frames gently onto his face. The Potter Draco knew well returned. Potter smiled sweetly.

Potter’s eyes became less noticeable, but that was okay. Draco paid more attention to the other things he liked about him.  There were several things that stood out about Potter, besides the scar that most people paid attention to. The spatter of freckles on Potter’s nose stood out amongst his tanned skin and the dimple that appeared on Potter’s left cheek when he smiled were both particularly noteworthy, but perhaps the most interesting thing was  Potter’s prominent philtrum that led Draco’s eyes to Potter’s lips.

He stared at Potter’s lips. Draco leaned forward and pressed his lips against Potter’s. It was a quick peck, but Potter flinched a little. Kissing Potter when he least expected it could possibly become one of his favorite pastimes.

“What was that for?”

“Do I need a reason? We’re kind of a thing now right?”

Potter scratched the back of head, a nervous habit that Draco had picked up on recently. “Are we?” Potter asked. “A thing?”

“Of course,” Draco assured him. “We’ve acknowledged our feelings for one another and we’ve kissed. Twice. Of course we’re a thing now. Is that not how these things work?”

Potter kept scratching his head. He looked out toward the lake. He squinted and it looked like he was thinking awfully hard about something or other. Panic rushed through Draco.  He hadn’t misread the situation. Had he? Potter said he liked him, but did he not actually want to take it there? Was he regretting it now? Was this not what he wanted? Was he moving too fast?

Potter swallowed. He turned back to Draco and smiled. “Yeah. We’re a thing now. Definitely.”

Draco smiled back; relieved Potter wasn’t flaking on him. They continued their walk quietly and contentedly, until it got too dark to see more than a few feet ahead of them. They went inside and up to their dorm. It wasn’t too late, but Draco decided that they should part for the time being. He had homework to do and a few letters he wanted to write. Spending all night with Potter would definitely put him even further behind than he wanted to be. Potter agreed to part ways and told him he’d be with Ron and Hermione in the common room.

“See you later,” Potter waved and left with a smile.

For the first time, Draco wished he wasn’t hell bent on being so studious.


	16. Chapter 16

Harry walked his way back up to the eighth year dorms. He’d just gotten back from another practice session with Malfoy. He hadn’t stopped smiling since he’d left the Room of Requirement seeing as his time with Malfoy had been less of a practice session, and more of a “practice session.” He and Malfoy had spent the majority of the time snogging.

Harry had hesitated several times when Malfoy took the initiative to kiss him. He still felt guilty over forcing Malfoy to kiss him on the pitch, but the more Malfoy kissed him, the better it felt, and the less hesitant Harry started to feel about it. Kissing Draco Malfoy was one of the best things he’d ever felt. He wasn’t going to waste the opportunity on something that had misguidedly happened in the past. Harry got over himself and decided to focus solely on the present.

Harry reached the common room. He tried to wipe the smile off his face, but it was to no avail. He walked through the portrait hole, and immediately he was spotted. Ron beckoned him over.

“What’s up with you?” Ron asked. “Looks like you’re in a pretty good mood.”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

 “Ah come on mate. What’s going on?”

Harry grinned. There was really no need to keep the news to himself. “Me and Malfoy are dating now,” he said hoping his voice hadn’t sounded as lovesick puppy as he imagined it did.

Ron made a disgusted face. “I can’t believe you’ve gone all barmy for Malfoy already. He’s such a git.” Ron sighed and clasped a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “But I’m happy for you, since that’s what you wanted.”

“I really like him Ron. A lot. I’m just glad he feels the same.”

Ron nodded and then his eyes suddenly widened. He pulled Harry down onto the couch and eyed him seriously. “How far have you two gone?” he whispered.

Harry’s cheeks colored. He knew some of the boys in the dorm liked going on and on about their sexual activities, but Harry had never been one of them. It was more so due to the fact that he didn’t have anything to talk about, but he also wasn’t too keen on discussing much about his and Malfoy’s relationship with Ron, but he answered anyway. “We haven’t gone very far yet. Just a few snogging sessions. We only just started dating a few days ago.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Ron said. “Some people move faster than others. If the feeling’s right and all that.”

“Well the feeling certainly isn’t right yet, and I’m not planning on telling you what happens when and if it happens anyway. So keep your mind out of the gutter and out of my sex life. I stay out of yours and Hermione’s. You should do the same.”

“I’d tell you all about what me and Hermione get up to if you really want to know. There’s nothing wrong with trading stories between friends. As a matter of fact, last Hogsmeade weekend Hermione and me went into one of the abandoned classrooms on the sixth floor and-“

“Please don’t say anything else,” Harry interrupted.

Ron laughed. “I’m only teasing. Hermione would kill me if I ever told you anything about us without her permission.”

“I certainly would Ronald,” Hermione said from behind them. Harry and Ron both jumped and turned around.

Harry had calmed down a second after being startled, but Ron was still looking like a deer caught in the headlights. His face turned red all the way up to the tips of his ears. Harry laughed while Ron apologized to Hermione profusely.

“I was only joking,” Ron pleaded. “I swear.”

“Make sure that’s all you were doing,” Hermione said as she came around from behind the couch. She squeezed into the space between the two of them. “I’ve done a bit more research,” she said addressing Harry. “But once again, the search turned up nothing. How’s controlling your power going?”

Harry shook his head. “No breakthrough there either.”

“There has been a new development though,” Ron chimed in.

“What?” Hermione asked, looking back and forth between the two of them.

Harry smiled. “I’m dating Malfoy now.”

Harry didn’t know what reaction he was expecting from Hermione, but he was happy with what he got. She smiled and hugged him “That’s great Harry. I guess we’ll have to get to know Malfoy too now.”

“Why?” Ron asked sounding put out.

“Well, if Harry and Malfoy are dating, I assume we’re going to be seeing a lot more of now. We might as well attempt to get along with him.”

“That would really be great,” Harry said.

Ron sighed. “I’ll try, but I won’t make any promises.”

“Speaking of trying. Malfoy wants to help us do some research,” Harry said.

“Did you tell Malfoy about the…” Ron trailed off and made a random hand gesture that Harry took to mean “did he tell Malfoy about the Imperius Curse”.

“I haven’t told him that yet, but Malfoy wants to help with the extra power. He wants to see if there’s some way I can channel only some of my magic when I cast spells.”

Hermione nodded. “That’s a good idea. We can meet up soon and see if we can find anything. Tell Malfoy he’s welcome to join us.”

*****

Draco sat at his usual table in the library. He was hunched over his textbook, attempting to study for his upcoming potions test, but he’d been reading over the same passage for a while now, none of it sinking in. He was feeling extremely nervous and his nervousness was doing a number on his concentration.

Draco was meeting Harry’s friends today. Of course he’d met Granger and Weasley before, but never on their own terms and never on good terms. In the past, whenever Draco would interact with the two of them, it was either to goad Weasley about being a poor ginger or about Granger being a mudblood. How the hell had Potter gotten the two of them to agree to meeting Draco as his boyfriend?

Draco sat up and pushed his hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ears. He looked up and saw Potter coming toward him. He was smiling of course and waved at Draco as he walked over. Potter sat down next to Draco.

“How’s it going?” Potter asked.

“I’m nervous.”

“What for?”

Draco side-eyed Potter. “Oh I don’t know. Let me see. I’m about to properly meet your two very best friends in the whole wide world. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve antagonized and made fun of them ever since I met them. Of course I’m nervous. They probably fucking hate me Potter. Why did I agree to this?” Draco huffed.

“You antagonized me for a while too, but I don’t hate you.” Potter whispered in his ear, “I quite like you actually.”

Draco felt a shiver run through his body, but that wasn’t enough to distract him. Draco leaned away. “Now’s not the time Potter. I’m sitting on tenterhooks here.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. I’ve already told them about us being together and they’ve been pretty open about it. They don’t have a problem with it at all.”

Draco resisted an eye roll. “They didn’t have a problem with it?  That’s probably what they told you to your face.” Draco was sure they had more to say when Potter wasn’t around to hear it.

“When they disapprove they tell me straight out. They’ve always been pretty vocal about disliking the things I do. They don’t sugarcoat anything for me, Malfoy. That’s one of the things I like about the two of them.”

Potter took Draco’s hand and held it on top of the table. Draco realized he was shaking minutely. His nerves were worse off than he thought. Potter caressed Draco’s hand with his thumb. It served its desired effect. Draco calmed down a little.

“Everything will be fine,” Potter said. “Stop worrying about it, and just let it happen.”

Granger and Weasley showed up right after. Draco watched as the two of them hovered in front of the table looking back and forth between Potter and him, they both looked down and noticed him and Harry holding hands. Weasley stood there trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, decidedly not looking at their joined hands. Granger looked and smiled. It seemed genuine.  The scrutinizing started to make Draco feel uncomfortable and he tried to pull his hand out from under Potter’s, but Potter squeezed his hand and gave him a look. Draco kept his hand still.

“Harry. Malfoy.” Granger nodded and greeted them both.

Weasley gave a curt and polite, “Hullo.”

Draco put on his best smile and offered a “Hello,” in return.

Granger and Weasley sat down opposite him and Potter. For the first few moments the four of them sat there in silence staring around the table.

Potter eventually cleared his throat. “This is Malfoy,” he said to Weasley and Granger. “And this is Hermione and Ron,” he said gesturing to his friends. “Though I’m sure you’ve all already met,” Potter added on with a slight chuckle. Draco’s eyes almost rolled to the back of his head. Granger hid a smile behind her hand, and Weasley crossed his arms over his chest, clearly just as unamused as Draco.

Potter pushed his glasses further up his nose and clapped his hands together.  “Well now the introductions are over, I guess we should get started. Malfoy?”

Draco looked over at Potter incredulously wondering what he wanted him to do. Potter kicked him in the shin under the table. Draco raised his eyebrows. That had hurt. He thought about kicking Potter back, but with much more force, but then he looked over at Granger and Weasley. They were staring at him curiously, perhaps wondering when he was going to get on with it. Draco forgot all thoughts of roughing Potter up.

“Well,” Draco started. “Potter and I talked about possibly trying to find out a way to reduce his magic when he does spells.”

Granger chimed in. “Yes Harry told us. I’ve been researching ideas on how to control-“ Granger paused and looked over at Potter. Draco thought he saw Potter shake his head slightly, but he thought nothing of it when Granger continued. “Individual spells, but I haven’t done much research on how to control all of Harry’s magic. If we can somehow find a spell, a potion, or something that would restrict Harry’s magic so that he wouldn’t have to use all his power at one time that would be great.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Draco agreed.

“So where do we start looking?” Weasley asked.

“Obviously we should start looking for a book about controlling magic.” Granger said.  She got up and gestured for Weasley to follow.

 “That wasn’t so bad was it?” Potter asked.

“Fortunately, it wasn’t too terrible. It went okay, but clearly if we were to meet them on a more social basis things would probably have gone much differently”

“Of course, but that’s not important right now. We’ve gotten introductions out of the way. We can only go up from here right?”

“Right, but I hope you’re not expecting me to make friends with yours Potter. That would never work.”

Potter shrugged. “Who knows? You might become the best of friends with Ron and Hermione. You and Ron can bond over the Canons and you and Hermione can bond over romantic cinderella stories you guys read in books.”

Draco scoffed. “You know I don’t like that atrocious team, nor would I ever read such drivel, Potter. I’m actually quite surprised Granger doesn’t prefer much more intellectual fare.”

“Hey, don’t knock the Canons or what Hermione reads. I know they’re both rubbish, but everyone’s got a guilty pleasure, right?”

“They do,” Draco said fiddling with the end of Potter’s sleeve. “And you’re mine.”

Harry laughed. “You’re mine too,” Potter said and kissed Draco briefly on the cheek.

Granger and Weasley came back shortly, carrying some of the thickest books Draco had ever seen in his life and plopped them onto the table. The four of them each grabbed one, cracked them open and got started on their research.

Researching with Potter’s friends wasn’t the most productive. The four of them looked over several books multiple times, but ultimately, they weren’t finding anything that would help Potter in the long run. 

They’d been together for a couple hours already and most of that time had been spent in absolute silence. Potter spoke to Draco every now and then, and he threw a comment across the table to Granger or Weasley on the occasion, but a full on conversation between the four of them had yet to take place, at least not after their initial exchanging of words.

The entire time, Draco could feel how thick with tension the air was. If it were a tangible thing, Draco was sure he would suffocate from the uncomfortable feeling that permeated the room. Granger and Weasley were clearly only putting up with him for Potter’s sake. Not that Draco hadn’t been doing the same; tolerating Granger and Weasley because that’s what Potter would  want. Draco could probably get used to feeling uneasy in Granger and Weasley’s presence, but Draco was sure his relationship with Potter would fare better if he could get along decently with his friends. He was sure they could never be on the best of terms, but Draco knew he had to at least try.

Another hour had gone by and the four of them decided to pack it in for the night. Potter packed his things into his bag and Draco did the same. Granger and Weasley gathered all the books from the table and went to put them back on the shelves.

“Excuse me for a minute, Potter,” Draco said standing up.

Potter grabbed his hand. “Where are you going? We can just wait here until Ron and Hermione get back, and then we can all walk back together.”

“Just give me a minute. I’ll be right back. I’ve got to do something,” Draco said, squeezing Potter’s hand. Draco let go and quickly went deeper into the library in the direction Granger and Weasley had gone off in.

Draco found the two of them fairly quickly. They appeared to be putting the last few books in back onto the shelves. They turned to him when they saw him.

“Is there something you need Malfoy?” Weasley asked.

“No there’s not,” Draco replied.

Granger shelved the last book. “What is it then Malfoy? Is it about Harry?”

“Sort of,” Draco said. He glanced away before looking back at the two people in front of him. Why was this so hard? Draco took a deep breath, in and out. “I wanted to apologize. To the both of you.”

Granger eyes widened and Weasley stood up straighter and uncrossed his arms. Draco had their full attention now.

He continued. “I apologize for the things I’ve said and done to the two over the years. I’m sorry Weasley for insulting you and your family and I’m sorry Granger for…” he hesitated. “For what I called you. Multiple times.”  He addressed the both of them again. “I know it doesn’t mean much now, and this apology is probably far too late, but I just wanted to make sure the two of you know that I feel horrible about the things I did in the past.”

“So you’re just apologizing to us to make yourself feel better?” Weasley challenged.

“Absolutely not,” Draco responded. “I’m apologizing because the two of you deserve at least that much from me, and I’m apologizing for Potter as well. I’m sure he’d prefer it if the three of us weren’t at odds with each other.”

“He’s right Ron,” Granger chimed in. “Things would go much more smoothly if we can get along with Malfoy. We can do that at least.” She turned to Draco. “Apology accepted. I’ll forgive you, but I won’t forget the things you’ve done. You’re going to have to work really hard to prove to me that you’re good for Harry.”

Draco almost rolled his eyes. He didn’t have to prove anything to Granger, but if placating Potter’s overprotective friends would make their relationship easier, he’d absolutely do it. “I’ll do my best,” Draco said.

Weasley stepped forward. “I’ll forgive you too, and I won’t forget either,” He stepped even closer. “If you hurt him Malfoy…” he trailed off.

“I won’t,” Draco said firmly, “I can promise you that.”

“Good,” Weasley said and left the aisle. Granger gave Draco one last look and a small nod before following after him.

When Draco returned to the table, Granger and Weasley had already left. Potter sat on top of the table swinging his legs back and forth. He looked up and smiled when he spotted Draco.

Draco stood in front of Potter. “Your friends left? I thought we were walking back together?”

“We were going to, but I told them to go ahead and go.”

 “Why?”

“Because I wanted to do this,” Potter said and pulled Draco forward and between his legs.

Draco was surprised at the sudden pull, but thoroughly enjoyed when Potter wrapped his arms around his neck and dragged his head down for a kiss. Potter gave Draco’s mouth a through seeing to before he pulled back and nibbled on Draco’s bottom lip before letting go.

Draco, who felt more than a little dazed, tilted his head to the side and asked, “What was that for?”

“Thank you,” Potter said simply.

“For?”

“For apologizing to Hermione and Ron. You didn’t have to do that for me, but I’m glad you did.”

Draco pressed his forehead to Potter’s.  “I didn’t do it for you, you egocentric git,” Draco lied. “I did it because it needed to be done.”

Potter stared at Draco, his eyes shining behind his lenses. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Whatever Potter,” Draco responded and gave him a gentle peck on the lips.


	17. Chapter 17

Draco found himself floating on cloud nine most of the time. His relationship with Potter had been going on for a short while and Draco still found himself feeling just as giddy about it as he had the first day they’d agreed to see each other. He and Potter spent plenty of time together, both in and out of the Room of Requirement. Snogging sessions in the Room of Requirement and several broom closets had gotten hot and heavy several times. Draco always had to pull himself away from Potter to calm himself down.

Snogging Potter was always great, but Draco really wanted to do a little more with Potter. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for full on sex, but he was pretty sure he was ready for some heavy groping at the very least. He hadn’t said anything to Potter though. Potter hadn’t made any indication that that was anything he wanted at the moment. The last thing Draco wanted to do was push Potter into something he wasn’t ready for. Draco decided he’d wait and let Potter make the first move.

In the meantime, Draco did very much enjoy the chaste intimacy he was experiencing with Potter. After they’d officially gotten together, Potter had taken to holding Draco’s hand every chance he got. Harry had told him, he enjoyed the feel of their hands linked together. Harry had even started doing it in public. Draco found out fairly quickly that Harry Potter wasn’t shy about their relationship. He’d sit next to Draco in every class they shared together, he’d walk with him to classes they didn’t share if they were going the in same direction, and Potter would do it all while never letting go of Draco’s hand.

Draco had been uncomfortable with it at first. He’d never been one for public displays of affection, but he’d gotten used to the whispers and stares of his fellow classmates over the days and ignored them now. Potter demanded his attention way more that his random classmates did.

Draco had been scared of allowing people to catch on to the fact that they were dating. He didn’t want it smeared all over the papers and he didn’t want to give people even more fodder to hate him, but Potter had assured him that everything would be okay. And just like he said, things were okay. Draco had been so nervous every morning when the Daily Prophet made its rounds around the great hall. Harry told him later that he’d made sure the Prophet and other papers had a gag order regarding anything to do with his life. If they dared to even print about the color of the shirt he was wearing, he’d sue them.

Draco sat staring at Potter during lunch. He wasn’t focusing on what Potter was saying, he just watched him eat and talk about nothing in particular. Draco noticed that Potter’s manners hadn’t gotten any better. He had told him time and time again to watch his table manners, especially because he was eating with Draco. It was making him look bad, but Draco had gotten used to Potter completely ignoring his attempts at correcting him. Draco actually found Potter’s complete lack of grace endearing now.

Potter shoveled in his last bite of ham and downed his pumpkin juice. He grabbed Draco’s hand and asked if he was finished. Draco nodded and Potter dragged him off so quickly, Draco barely had time to pull his legs over the bench before they were moving out of the Great Hall. Draco saw a few stares pointed in their direction, but it was far less stares than he was used to receiving. The students must’ve gotten use to the idea of him and Potter together.

Potter wound up dragging him to the owlery. They waded through rows of owls until they reached the school designated owls.

“What happened to your owl?” Draco asked.

“She was killed during the war,” Potter said matter-of-factly.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ll get a new one one day. When I don’t miss Hedwig as much.”

Draco reached out and rubbed Potter’s back, hoping it would make him feel better.

“Anyway,” Potter said changing the subject. “I didn’t bring you up here to get all sad.” He pulled a letter out of his pocket and handed to Draco.

Draco quickly read it. Due to Potter’s request, the Ministry was going to allow Draco to come off of his probation sooner than what was originally planned. His parents would have to wait theirs out of course and the Ministry had plans to continue keeping an eye on him, but he’d basically be free.

Draco jumped up and kissed Potter excitedly. He smiled into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Potter’s waist before breaking the kiss.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to do this.”

Potter lifted one shoulder in an “it was nothing” gesture. “What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I didn’t do at least this for you?”

“You’re brilliant,” Draco said. “I’ve never actually had a boyfriend before, but if I had, I’m pretty sure you would definitely be the best one I would have had.”

Something flickered behind Potter’s eyes, but it was gone before Draco could even decide if it was ever really there or he was just imagining it.

Potter pushed a lock of hair behind his ear. “It’s still going to take a while before you can get the bracelet removed. The Ministry wanted reference letters saying that you’ve been on your best behavior.” Potter pulled a few envelopes out of his pocket. “I wrote one for you, McGonagall wrote one. Hermione even wrote one for you too.”

Neither McGonagall or Granger knew him that well, they more than likely didn’t like him much either, but they were willing to speak well about him. Potter probably influenced their decisions to do so heavily, but still neither of them truly had to do anything for him. Draco made a point to thank the both of them later.

“There’s apparently a lot of paperwork to get through before your appeal passes and that supposedly takes a lot of time. Months I’ve been told, but you’ll get to get the bracelet taken off by March of next year, hopefully.”

“It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I’m just glad I can get rid of the thing.”

“Me too. I’m looking forward to taking you out on a real date to Hogsmeade next year, instead of hanging around the castle.”

“As long as you don’t take me to some overly tripe place like Madame Laverne’s Extravagant Tea Parlor, I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“I know you’d secretly like that,” Potter teased. “I bet you can’t wait to stir your tea with a cinnamon stick and eat snicker doodles off of cute little doilies, while we watch Madame Laverne sing snippets from her favorite musicals.”

Draco circled his arms around Harry’s neck and kissed him long and slow. When he pulled away, he made sure to tug a few strands of Potter’s hair. “You better not take me to that horrid place, or you’ll find yourself short one boyfriend.”

Potter quickly reached up and tugged a few strands of Draco’s hair before he rubbed his fingers over the same spot, soothing the slight sting. “I promise I won’t take you anywhere near that place,” he said, and kissed Draco some more.

*****

           

Although their first study group hadn’t provided any answers Harry, Malfoy, Hermione and Ron went back to the library to study some more.

“I’ve checked a few more books and I think they might actually be of some help,” Hermione said placing a stack of books on the table.

Each person grabbed a book and got to work. The four of them poured over the books for a while. A couple hours in, and Harry and Ron were nearly ready to give up. Harry could tell that Ron had been quite done with reading the textbooks ages ago, but Harry wanted to give up for another reason. Harry had lost interest just a few minutes ago when Malfoy had started rubbing his socked foot along Harry’s shin under the table. Harry was sure his friends were none the wiser, but Harry couldn’t stay focused. Right now, he really just wanted to drag Malfoy into a broom closet and have a hot and heavy snog.

Harry looked over at Malfoy and was just about to ask if he wanted to take a “break” when Hermione told them to keep researching. They were bound to find something.

Harry nixed his broom closet idea and went back to researching. He patted Malfoy’s shoulder and told him to do the same.

Thirty minutes later, Hermione alerted everyone to her attention.

“Did you find something?” Harry asked her.

“It’s not the solution we were looking for, but I’ve been reading something about someone else who once possessed a lot of power. Their solution was to transfer some of their magic into another vessel. Maybe that could work for you Harry?”

Harry nodded contemplating. “That might be a good idea. How do we do it?”

Hermione referenced the book in front of her. “The spell doesn’t look particularly complicated.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and skimmed a few more pages. “We’d need to brew a few potions that might take a while to brew. The only problem is we’ll have to find a vessel to transfer your magic into.”

“A vessel? Could it be anything?” Harry asked. “Can I transfer my magic into a cup or cauldron or something?”

“Yes, theoretically you could transfer your magic into anything.”

“What would happen to the vessel then?” Ron asked. “It’s just loaded with magic?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes. If Harry were to transfer his magic into an inanimate object, nothing would happen. The magic would lie dormant within it, but if he were to transfer his magic into a vessel with magical properties…enchanted coins or an invisibility cloak, it would serve to enhance the magical properties within them, making whatever charms that were placed on such objects more durable.”

“Can I transfer the magic into something that once held magic properties, but doesn’t anymore?”

“Like the Room of Requirement?” Malfoy chimed in. Harry smiled at Malfoy. Of course he’d realise exactly what Harry was talking about. They’d spent enough time in the now magicless room. “If Potter transferred his magic into the room, would it work like it used to?”

Hermione hummed. “I’m not sure, but it could be worth a try. It could work to some extent.”

“There might be a problem with that though. We don’t know how much magic the room requires to function properly,” Malfoy reasoned. “Even if Potter transferred some of his magic, it might not work because the room might need more magic than he’s capable of giving.”

“Therein lies the problem,” Hermione said. “According to the book, while the spell and potion brewing is easy, it’s what you’re transferring the magic into that’s the hard part. You can transfer the magic into any vessel, but the transfer itself is dangerous because there’s no way to determine how much magic is given during the transfer. Harry has to physically push the magic into the vessel so to speak. There’s no way for him to know how much he’s transferred until afterwards. It’s very risky. There’s not much of a problem if Harry transfers too little magic, but if he unknowingly transfers too much magic, it could leave Harry with none at all. And because the room’s inanimate, unfortunately once the magic is transferred, it can’t be transferred back.”

“Would Harry be a squib then?” Ron asked.

“Pretty much,” Hermione replied.

“We’ll have to find some way that would only allow me to transfer some of my magic,” Harry said nonchalantly.

“We’ll have to start researching magic transfers now then.” Ron said.

They all agreed and got up to grab more research books.

*****

 Potter had gone off to play quidditch with a few seventh and eighth year Gryffindor’s. Draco sat inside the dorm room writing a letter to his mother informing her of the things that had happened since his last letter. Draco debated writing to his mother about his relationship with Potter, but thought better of it. It would be much more polite to tell his mother such news in person rather than through a letter. She wouldn’t appreciate finding out through the post in the slightest.

Draco put his quill on his desk and folded up the letter. He grabbed an envelope and put the letter inside. He picked up a candle and cast a spell to ignite the flame. It didn’t work. Draco simply sighed. He’d gotten used to it at this point. Each day it seemed like his wand was working less and less. He figured he’d have to deal with it until he was able to go out and get a new one.

Draco cast the ignition spell several more times before the wick finally ignited. He waited until some of the wax melted and then tipped the candle allowing a few drops to fall onto the envelope to seal it. He let the flame flicker a few more times. He watched it dance, contemplating whether he should test if he could get an extinguishing charm to work. He simply blew the candle out in the end.

He left the dorm and went up to the owlery to post his letter. After giving one of the owls his letter and instructions on who to deliver it to, Draco sat on one of the nearby benches pressed against the wall. He looked around the owlery. It was filled with owls sitting calmly on their perches. Some were asleep and some were wide awake. Draco pet the black owl sitting closest to him. It tried to nip his hand and Draco gave it one last pat on the head before he dropped his hand.

Christmas was coming up soon. Given their relationship status, it would be expected of him to give Potter a present. Draco had no idea what to give Potter though. Draco glanced around the owlery. Potter had yet to get a new owl, but he’d also said he wasn’t ready for a new one. It would be a misstep to force a new one on him. Potter would be angry for sure.

A pebble had come loose from the stoned floor. Draco kicked it across the room. He wanted to get something perfect for Potter. Realistically, Draco couldn’t even go out to get it anyway, not with the bracelet around his wrist. A bracelet that Potter was working hard to help him get rid of.

Draco sighed. What could he possibly give in return for Potter being so kind to him? He’d have to think on that for a while longer. Thankfully, he still had about a week before the holidays would come.

He stayed in the owlery a while longer. Eventually, he could see the sun start to set and the room got darker. Draco pulled out his wand to cast a _lumos_. His wand flickered up before it promptly went out. Draco huffed and shoved it back into his pocket. He really didn’t know why he even bothered these days. He’d resigned himself to finding his way out of the owlery with what little sunlight there was left and hoped he didn’t knock any of the owls off their perches on his way out. The last thing he wanted was a flock of birds pecking at him.

Draco pushed himself up from the bench. His legs felt weak. He found himself quickly falling back down. It was just his luck that the bench was underneath him to catch his fall, or he would have found himself sprawled out on the floor.

Draco felt the tingling feeling in his legs, just like he’d felt that day he couldn’t get up out of bed. Clearly, tiredness wasn’t his issue. Draco sat for a while until the numbing feeling went away. He stood up and massaged his legs. They felt perfectly fine. Draco too a few steps and nothing seemed to be wrong.

He left the owlery and made his way to the Hospital Wing. Perhaps Madame Pomfrey could figure out what the hell was wrong with him. Before he could make it, Draco bumped into Potter. He appeared to have just gotten back from his quidditch game. He was bundled up in a scarf, hat, and gloves, and his cheeks were still red from the cold.

“What are you up to?” Potter asked.

Draco glanced past Potter to the hospital doors. He considered telling Potter what was going on, but decided against it. There was no need to worry Potter over this. Draco didn’t want any more pity from Potter than he’d already received. 

“Nothing,” he told him. “I was just on my way to the Great Hall for Dinner.

“That’s great!” Potter exclaimed. “So was I.” He grabbed Draco’s hand and dragged him off in the direction of the Great Hall. Draco let him. He could always come back and get checked later. There was probably nothing seriously wrong with him anyway. He was perfectly fine for the moment. It could wait.


	18. Chapter 18

Draco was finally able to come up with a present for Potter. It was the day before Christmas hols, and Potter was spending time with Granger and Weasley for most of the day, leaving Draco plenty of time to get the surprise set up.

Draco had taken the past week thinking about what he was going to get Potter. He thought he could order something by owl post, but he couldn’t find anything he really wanted to give to him. He thought about enlisting Blaise’s or Pansy’s help and having them pick up something for him and send it to the school, but even if Draco could have managed to get ahold of one of them, he didn’t want them harassing him about his relationship with Potter. They were sure to have a million questions and Draco didn’t want either of them any further in his business than they already were.

After all the fuss, Draco settled on something simple. He would bring Potter to the Room of Requirement and they’d have a nice quiet evening together away from prying eyes. Whenever they weren’t in the Room, there were always people watching them. Whether it was the other students, teachers, or even the portraits, there was always someone watching. The Room was the perfect place to get away from it all. He and Potter had fooled around a little in the Room before in between helping Potter practice his magic, but they’d never met in the room for the sole purpose of keeping each other company.

Draco made it to the Room of Requirement and had his mind set on the design. He took out his wand and a bag of marbles form his pocket. He cast the spell that would transfigure them into candles, but it didn’t work. Draco shook his wand and tried again. Still nothing. He was about ready to break his wand; the damn thing was so frustrating. He attempted to cast another spell that would make foliage grow, but nothing happened. Finally he tried a simple _lumos_ to see if he could get his wand to work at all, but still nothing. Draco rolled his eyes. He’d cast these same spells just that morning, to see if he could manage them for later. It was just his luck that his wand decided to fritz out on him now, when he truly needed it to work.

He threw his wand, half wishing it would break and half hoping it really wouldn’t. He wouldn’t be allowed a replacement until his probation was lifted and Potter had already told him that would take time. There’d be no use being wandless until then, although he practically already was.

He crossed his arms over his chest and contemplated what to do. The answer quickly came to mind. Draco left the Room of Requirement. He reached the Headmistresses office and rode the staircase to the top.  He knocked on the door and McGonagall welcomed him in.

“What brings you here Mr. Malfoy,” the Headmistress asked.

“I need a little help with some magic,” Draco replied beating around the bush.

“What do you need help with?”

“I seemed to have misplaced my wand,” Draco lied smoothly. “But I want to set up something for Potter. A surprise. I’d like your help.”

McGonagall hummed. “You should make sure you find your wand soon. A wizard without his wand is usually quite lost,” she said.

“I’ll find it. I’m sure I just dropped it somewhere in the dorm. Nothing to be worried about Headmistress.”

McGonagall eyed him, but said nothing more on the subject. “I’d love to help you Mr. Malfoy, but I’m afraid I have tons of work I must get through. I can however, have a house elf assist you. Winty!” She called.

A house elf promptly popped into the room.

“If you’d please assist Mr. Malfoy,” she told the elf.

Minutes later Draco and the elf were back in the Room of Requirement. He told her what he wanted and watched as she quickly decorated the room, her elf magic getting the job done twice as fast as he would have, even if his wand had been working.

After Winty finished, she bowed so deeply, Draco was sure her pointy nose knocked into her knees. He thanked her and she popped out of the room. Draco glanced around the room one last time. Satisfied, he went to leave, but before he left, he just barely remembered to pick up his wand.

He spotted it not too far off, nestled in some grass and picked it up. He dropped to his knees, suddenly feeling faint. The feeling wore off almost as soon as he made contact with the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. What on earth was happening to him? Draco resigned himself to getting checked out. But not right now. He checked his watch. Potter would be back soon. He’d go see Pomfrey after he said goodbye to Harry. He’d go right before he had to leave for the Manor.

*****

Harry went up to the dorms to look for Malfoy and wondered where he was when he glanced over to Malfoy’s empty bed. Harry spotted a small note on top of his duvet.  He retrieved it. “Meet me at the Room of Requirement,” he read.

How cute was it that Malfoy was leaving him notes? Harry pocketed the note and left the dorm. Malfoy probably wanted to get in one last practice session or maybe even one last snogging session before he left for the holidays. It would be another two weeks before they could meet again. Harry would surely prefer a snogging session to practicing his magic. He didn’t know how he was going to manage an entire two weeks without being able to see or touch Malfoy. He grown quite fond of always having him around.

Harry reached the Room of Requirement. Malfoy greeted him outside the door. Harry leaned in and kissed Malfoy briefly. “Should we get to practicing then?”

Malfoy shook his head. “We’re not practicing today.”

Harry smiled and bit his lip. Clearly he and Malfoy were on the same track. “Why are we here then?” he asked coyly.

“Go inside and find out.”

Harry peered around the room. It had been completely transformed. Grass covered the original stone floor from wall to wall. There were several small trees scattered around the room and stones of every shape and size littered between them. Candles lined the perimeter of the room and tiny little lights had been strung from the ceiling. Malfoy had created a small forest, under the night sky in one room. Harry loved it. His and Malfoy’s own private forest, free of people, the freezing outside temperatures, and whatever potentially dangerous animals and creatures that usually lingered in a real forest.

“How did you do all this?” Harry asked.

“I had a little help form a house elf.”

“ _You_ getting help from a house elf?  What?”

Malfoy laughed. “It’s not unbelievable Potter. Not any more unbelievable than the two of us being together right now.”

“True.” Harry agreed.

“Anyway,” Malfoy said.  He gestured around the room. “This is my gift to you. For Christmas. You’ve done a lot for me this year Potter. I wanted to do something special for you.”

Harry beamed. “Thank you. It’s brilliant. I was going to send you your gift over the holidays, but I can _accio_ it now.”

Draco shook his head. “No that’s okay. Go ahead and do what you’ve already planned. I’m just doing this for you now, since this obviously isn’t something I can send through the post.”

Malfoy took Harry’s hand in his and guided him over to a clearing in the middle of the room. Harry spotted a blanket laid out on the grass and a picnic basket off to the side. Candles, just like the one’s set up around the room surrounded the little area.

“That’s a bit of fire hazard don’t you think? With all this grass?” Harry teased.

“They’re charmed,” Draco replied. “Nothing to worry about.”

Draco allowed Harry to sit and then he took a seat right beside him.

“This is romantic,” Harry said.

“I’m glad you approve. I did put a little thought into it.”

“I didn’t know you had it in you to be so romantic Malfoy.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me Potter.”

Harry realized that that was true. They’d spent an extraordinary amount of time together over the past few months. Harry had fallen in love with Malfoy even more, but he had to admit, there wasn’t a whole lot he knew about the man.

Harry looked at Malfoy seriously. “I’d like to know a lot more about you though.”

Malfoy placed a hand on Harry’s cheek. His palm was slightly chilly, but Harry bore through it. “You’ll get to know me better,” he told Harry. “That’s why we’re dating. To get to know each other better. It’ll happen Potter. Give it time.” He stroked Harry’s cheek once and dropped his hand.

Harry silently agreed. Of course there was plenty of time to get to know each other better. Who knew how long they had. Everything would be revealed eventually. Their likes and dislikes. Their truths, lies, and Harry’s secrets.

Harry cleared his throat. “What’s in the basket?”

Malfoy pulled the basket over. “It’s not exactly a picnic, but I thought you might like it.”

He proceeded to open the basket and pulled out all kinds of sweet treats; cookies, cakes, pies, treacle tart, and Harry’s favorite- ice cream. 

Harry laughed. “This is better than a picnic.”

Harry picked up a cookie and bit into it. He shoved it in Malfoy’s direction. Malfoy took the cookie and bit a huge chuck out of it.

“These are really good,” Harry said. A few crumbs flew from his mouth. “The house elves have always been really good at making dessert.”

“How do you know I didn’t make them?”

“You? In the kitchen?” Harry scoffed, projecting more crumbs onto the blanket. “I can’t imagine you even know how to turn on an oven.”

“Ha, ha, Potter. Laugh it up. I’m not as spoiled as you think I am. I can make a few simple things, though I don’t really know _that_ much about cooking or baking.”

“Hmm. I think you’d be good at both it you really tried.  It’s similar to potions. There’s a recipe and ingredients, just like with brewing. You’re good at potions. I bet you’d be great at cooking.”

“Do you know how to cook?” Malfoy asked.

Harry swallowed the rest of his second cookie and brushed his hands on his pants. “I’ve cooked for The Dursley’s sometimes. My muggle family.” Harry clarified after Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “My aunt made me cook sometimes. Sometimes I had to cook for myself on the few occasions they went out of town for the weekend.”

“They didn’t treat you well did they?” Malfoy asked him quietly.

“No. They didn’t.” Harry said. He waited for Malfoy to ask him more questions about the Dursley’s. He didn’t want to talk about his cupboard under the stairs, or the bars on the windows, or any of the emotional neglect he suffered under the Dursley’s for years. He didn’t want to think about it most days and didn’t want to dwell on it now.

Malfoy thankfully didn’t ask him anymore questions. Instead, Malfoy smiled at him sadly and took hand. He intertwined their fingers and squeezed before he let go. Harry was relieved.

Malfoy picked up a mini treacle tart and picked at the crust around the edges. Harry watched as the tiny crumbs fell from the dessert to the blanket. Malfoy spun the tart around in his hand a few times and eyed it, but he still made no move to eat it.

“I hate my father,” Malfoy suddenly blurted.

Harry squinted at him, wondering how they’d gotten onto the topic of his father. “Hmm?”

“We were talking about horrible relatives,” Malfoy clarified.

“Oh.”

Malfoy continued. “I hate him because he was a Death Eater, and I hate him because he filled my head with nonsense, and I hate him because he was never there when I was growing up. Not emotionally or physically. Mother was always there, but father was always far more interested in some political crap or being stuck under the Dark Lord. I hate him because he made me believe that’s where I needed to be too.” Malfoy bit into his tart and smiled at Harry. “These are good. You should have one.”

Harry was surprised Malfoy volunteered that much information about his father. He thought back to the first time he’d asked Malfoy about him and Malfoy adamantly didn’t want to talk about him. Then Harry remembered that he hadn’t taken no for an answer and imperiused Malfoy. Harry already knew a little about how Malfoy felt about his father. He was grateful Malfoy had finally opened up a little. Harry really wished he hadn’t pushed him so hard before.

Harry picked up a tart and ate it. “This _is_ really good”

After eating the tart, Harry scooped up the ice cream. It sat in a small white bowl, still cold from a charm placed on it. Harry picked up two spoons and handed Malfoy one. Harry placed the bowl on the blanket between the two of them. They took turns spooning the strawberry dessert into their mouths.

“What are your plans for the holidays?” Malfoy asked.

“I don’t have any really,” Harry replied. “Hermione and Ron are staying in the castle and we’re all going to do some more research.”

“I can stay too, if you want.”

“I’d like that, but you should go home. You probably miss your mother?”

Malfoy licked a speck of strawberry from his spoon. “I do. I’ve been writing her, but after seeing her every day while I was on house arrest. I miss not seeing her as often. Plus it would be nice seeing Blaise and Pansy over the holidays. It’s not the same through the floo.”

“I hope you have good time.”

“I hope you find something that’ll help you soon.”

“I will eventually.” Harry replied.

They sat silently and continued to eat their ice cream.

“Malfoy,” Harry said feeling a bit mischievous.

Malfoy looked up, and when he did, Harry took the opportunity to smear a spoonful of ice cream over Malfoy’s lips.

“He-,” Malfoy started to say.    

Harry didn’t let him finish. He leaned over and kissed him. Harry gave Malfoy a sweet gentle kiss, further sweetened by the cold dessert. He licked Malfoy’s lips until he could no longer taste the ice cream, but the man himself. Malfoy kissed him back and deepened the kiss when he unceremoniously shoved his tongue in Harry’s mouth. They both dropped their spoons and fell back onto the blanket. Harry kicked the bowl of leftover ice cream out of the way, only vaguely hoping he hadn’t made too much of a mess for the house elves to clean up later.

Harry lay half on top of Malfoy, kissing him long and slow. Harry felt himself harden and with his right hand near Malfoy’s crotch he could feel that he was hard as well. Harry peeled himself from Malfoy’s mouth, reached down and tugged up Malfoy’s shirt. Malfoy returned the favor.

Their shirts were discarded and thrown haphazardly across the room somewhere.  Harry dove into Malfoy’s neck and laid a trail of kisses along his throat. He ducked down and licked Malfoy’s clavicle, reveling in the soft moan Malfoy made when he did.

Harry ducked down further to Malfoy’s chest and paused. Right in front of his face was a long pale white scar that stood out silvery against Malfoys pale skin. The scar reached from his right hip and the end of it stopped right where Malfoy’s heart probably was. _Sectumsempra_. Harry hadn’t known what that spell would do when he cast it against Malfoy and now here was the proof of his stupidity. The proof of that night Harry had almost killed him. Harry started to pull away.

Malfoy placed both hands behind Harry’s head and stopped him before he could completely back off. He pulled his face down towards him and said, “Don’t think about that. That doesn’t matter.” Malfoy licked his lips and kissed Harry again.  It was a wet, fast, dizzying kiss that made Harry forget all about the scar.

Malfoy ended the kiss. He sat up and pushed Harry on his back. Harry lay back and opened his legs allowing Malfoy to lie in between them. Malfoy gently lowered himself on top of Harry. They were connected. Chest to chest, crotch to crotch.

Harry enjoyed Malfoy’s weight on top of him. Malfoy pulled up slightly and braced himself on his forearms on either side of Harry. “Am I too heavy?”

“No. I like it.” Harry reached his arms around Malfoy’s neck and pulled him back down.  Malfoy’s body was pressing into him in all the right places. Especially right between his legs. They both still had their trousers on, but Harry could feel Malfoy’s hard cock pressing into his own.

Harry bent his legs at the knees and experimentally pushed up into Malfoy. The sensation that ran through him sent tingles through his cock. Harry bit his lip when Malfoy moaned; obviously he had enjoyed it too.

“Fuck, Potter,” Malfoy groaned and Harry smiled. He loved that in one simple action, he’d made Malfoy feel good. “That was nice.”

“It was. We should do it again.”

Malfoy kissed him and pushed himself hard into Harry. He ground against him once, twice, three times, Harry gasped. It felt so good. Harry opened his legs as wide as he could, giving Malfoy all the room he might have needed in order to thrust into him at just the right angle. Harry slid both his hands down Malfoy’s back as Malfoy buried his face in Harry’s neck. Harry ventured further and palmed Malfoy’s arse and used it as leverage to thrust himself into Malfoy.

They continued on, giving each other all they could. They worked up a good rhythm after a while, one that seemed to be the most pleasurable to the both of them. It was hard, it was fast, and it was the best thing Harry had ever felt.

Harry closed his eyes and focused on putting all his energy into humping Malfoy. Malfoy was moaning and huffing wet, hot breaths into his neck with each thrust. Harry had masturbated over the years to thoughts of Malfoy and he’d had even more dreams about him. Harry had even been in this exact position under Malfoy in them many times, but those dreams had been just that. Harry never expected that he and Malfoy would ever find themselves in this position. He never expected that the man he loved would ever return any of his feelings, but here they were grinding into each other like their lives depended on it.

“I love you,” Harry said. He couldn’t help himself. His mind was clouded in a euphoric sexual haze, and he’d let it slip out.

Harry stilled. He opened his eyes and waited for a reaction. Malfoy stilled too and stopped thrusting into Harry for all of five seconds before he continued what he was doing.  He had barely missed a beat. He kept thrusting into Harry like Harry hadn’t said a thing. He ignored him just like that time on the pitch. Tears pricked Harry’s eyes. It was a bit soon for him to expect Malfoy to love him in return. They hadn’t been together long, but still, Harry had hoped Malfoy felt the same, but Malfoy hadn’t even acknowledged Harry’s declaration.

“Let me see you,” Harry said and Malfoy came up from Harry’s neck. Harry felt another pang of hurt run through him. Malfoy could acknowledge that, but not Harry’s “I love you”?

Malfoy’s eyelids were low, his eyebrows were knitted and Harry could see the sweat beading on his nose. Harry placed both his palms on Malfoys face. “Tell me you love me,” he said.

Malfoy stopped thrusting, his eyes widened, and his face went blank. It was a much different expression than the flushed, lust filled expression Harry had seen only moments before.

“I love you,” Malfoy said robotically.

Harry watched as Malfoy’s blank expression turned back into the heated gaze he’d been giving Harry before. Malfoy smiled down at Harry and Harry couldn’t bring himself to smile back. He pulled Malfoy’s face down and kissed him as Malfoy started to thrust into him once more.

Harry pushed back into Malfoy as they kissed. Though Harry felt guilty, it still felt just as good as it had before. Harry was close. He pushed into Malfoy three more times before he stiffened under him and came. A few more short strokes and Malfoy had come undone as well.

Malfoy sighed and rolled off to the side of Harry. He kissed his cheek and carded his fingers through Harry’s hair. “We should do this again sometime Potter.”

Harry scooted down and placed his head on Malfoy’s chest. Malfoy stilled, before he resumed what he’d been doing.  Harry looked up at him. “We should definitely do this again,” Harry said, hoping Malfoy couldn’t hear the shame in his voice.

Malfoy hummed and wrapped his arms around Harry tightly.  Harry looked away. He couldn’t bear to look at him at the moment. Harry closed his eyes, and willed himself to focus on Malfoy’s slow and deep breaths under his head. He wanted to enjoy the rest of the night with Malfoy embracing him. Harry loved Malfoy and he wanted to pretend for just a moment that Malfoy really did love him back, but Harry hated how pathetic he was for forcing Malfoy to tell him something he might not truly ever feel. Harry also hated how cruel he was for forcing Malfoy into yet another thing the man didn’t want, but what he hated the most, was the surge that had run through him when Malfoy told him he loved him. It hadn’t been real, but Harry had felt the impact of it all the same.


	19. Chapter 19

Harry blinked open his eyes. He felt well rested after he’d managed to push aside any ill thoughts about what had happened the night before.

During the night, he and Malfoy had managed to change positions and now Harry was on his back with Malfoy sprawled out on top of him. Harry felt a cold puddle of drool sliding across his chest. It was cold and disgusting and terribly unbefitting of a Malfoy. Harry would have to tease him about it later.

Harry stretched him arms over his head. His back hurt a little from sleeping on the ground. It would be really nice if he could sit up and stretch properly. Harry patted Malfoy’s shoulder and attempted to wake him up. He became alarmed when Malfoy didn’t wake after a few attempts. Harry called Malfoy’s name and shook him a few times, but Malfoy still showed no sign of consciousness.

Thoroughly worried now, Harry eased himself out from under Malfoy and made sure to lay his head gently on the blanket. He leaned over him and shoved a finger under his nose. Thankfully Malfoy was still breathing, but the confirmation did nothing to ease Harry’s heart.

He jumped up and pulled his sweater over his head. He cast a featherweight spell over Malfoy’s body and gathered him in his arms. Harry ran as fast as he could out of the Room of Requirement with Malfoy in his arms. He made his way quickly down the staircase and through the corridors to the Hospital Wing. Harry considered himself lucky that it was early enough that he didn’t run into any students along the way. He and Malfoy didn’t need any more gossip following them around.

Harry rushed into the Hospital Wing and screamed for Madame Pomfrey.  He placed Malfoy on a nearby bed and waited.

Pomfrey hustled over and glance over at Malfoy. “What happened?”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t know. I tried to wake him up, but I couldn’t.”

 Pomfrey waved a wand over Malfoy’s prone form and frowned. She cast several spells over him in a span of a few minutes and finally at the last one, her eyes widened. “Have a seat Mr. Potter.” Pomfrey gestured.

Harry’s heart raced. What on earth was wrong with Malfoy that Madame Pomfrey deemed it necessary for Harry to have a seat? That’s what people said when they were planning on delivering bad news and didn’t want the receiver of said bad news to fall over. Harry didn’t like where this was going at all.

“What’s wrong with him?” Harry asked, fear lacing his voice.

Pomfrey avoided his question. Instead she said, “Just wait right there. Mr. Malfoy will wake up on his own shortly.”

“But-“ Harry protested.

Madame Pomfrey gave Harry a stern look. “I will inform you of Mr. Malfoy’s condition once he awakens. If that is his wish.” She said firmly.

“Is it serious?”

“Just wait,” Pomfrey replied.

So Harry waited. He waited for nearly an hour before a heavy sigh came from Malfoy’s direction. Harry looked up and saw Malfoy’s eyes fluttering under his eyelids before they popped open completely.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked. Harry left his chair and went closer to Malfoy’s bedside.

 Malfoy said nothing. He blinked a few times and glanced around him. A look of confusion crossed his face.

“We’re in the hospital,” Harry told him. “I couldn’t get you to wake up this morning, so I brought you here.”

Pomfrey came over then. “I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news Mr. Malfoy,” she started.

Malfoy slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position. “What is it?”

Pomfrey glanced in Harry’s direction and then back towards Malfoy. “I have to ask you first though. Would you like Mr. Potter to leave or to stay?”

Malfoy looked over at Harry. Harry didn’t say anything. He just looked back. He hoped Malfoy would let him stay, but Harry didn’t want to influence him to say he could if that’s not what he wanted. Harry had already forced him into enough things.

Malfoy continued staring at Harry. He looked apprehensive, but eventually, he said, “Potter can stay. It’s fine.”

Madame Pomfrey grabbed Malfoy’s hand and captured it between both of hers. Harry could see him flinch visibly, but he didn’t pull away.

Madame Pomfrey swallowed and gave Malfoy the saddest of looks. “It seems you’ve come in contact with the Killing Curse.”

Malfoy gasped and Harry did too. 

“What?” Malfoy asked. “No one’s cast the Killing Curse at me. Clearly because I’m not dead,” he said obviously.

“I don’t know how, but the curse has made contact with your body. There are magical traces of it running through you. I don’t believe that anyone has cast it at you, but that you’ve come into contact with something that has been hit with the curse.”

Harry’s eye widened. “It wasn’t-“ Harry started to say, but Madame Pomfrey cut him off.

“No,” she placated him swiftly. “It would have had to be an object. Curses are only capable of lying dormant within objects. When someone touches them, the curse could potentially transfer its effects to the person. It’s usually not enough to cause any harm, but this time, it has.”

“Am I going to die?” Malfoy asked quietly. Harry reached out and grabbed Malfoy’s hand. He wanted to offer comfort to not only Malfoy, but himself as well.

“Of course not, Sweetheart,” Madame Pomfrey assured him. “The dormant curse wasn’t nearly strong enough to kill you.”

Harry let out the breath he’d been holding.

Pomfrey continued. “You’re definitely not going to die, but unfortunately, the curse has drained your magic.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“That’s what it does,” Malfoy chimed in. “If you’re a magical being, the curse searches for the magic inside of you. When it finds it, it drains you of every ounce of it before it kills you.”

Harry thought back to when he was dying of the Killing Curse. He remembered how it had felt. The numbing, tingling feeling running through his body until he felt he had no energy left. That must’ve been the curse attempting to drain him of all his magic. But it hadn’t worked. Harry still possessed all his magic and then some. Since Harry was still alive, he could only guess that the curse must’ve only drained the magic from the horcrux that had hid within him. Had Malfoy been feeling that last night? He had shown no sides of it if he had.

“So the curse just drained all his magic suddenly?” Harry asked.

Malfoy coughed and drew Harry’s attention. “Actually, I haven’t been able to do some magic for a while now. Recently, I haven’t been able to do any at all.”

Harry was surprised. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Malfoy bit his lip.

“What’s important right now,” Pomfrey cut in, “is figuring out what Mr. Malfoy has been in contact with. It would have to be something he’s comes into contact with fairly frequently.

“My wand?” Malfoy asked suddenly. “It hasn’t been normal since I got it back from Potter.

Harry was instantly reminded that he had been using Malfoy’s wand when he had battled Voldemort. He remembered when Voldemort had cast the curse at him. He remembered feeling that tingling feeling travel up his fingers before he’d deflected the curse “It could definitely be the wand,” Harry agreed.

Madame Pomfrey summoned Malfoy’s wand. It flew into the Hospital Wing with Malfoy’s sweater wrapped around it. Harry remembered that Malfoy had told him he’d misplaced his wand back in the dormitories, but he must’ve been carrying it with him the entire time. He’d apparently lied to mask the fact that he wasn’t capable of using it.

Madame Pomfrey cast a spell on Malfoy’s wand that would allow it to float in the air. She then cast an unknown spell at it. Harry and Malfoy watched on as Malfoy’s wand turned nearly transparent. Dark green, almost black tendrils swirled around inside Malfoy’s wand.

Madame Pomfrey dropped the wand back into Malfoy’s sweater and placed it carefully on the bed behind her. “It is definitely the wand,” she confirmed.

“Potter’s touched too,” Malfoy said. “Will he be alright?”

“He should be fine, as long as he’s had no prolonged contact with the wand.” Pomfrey cast a spell over Harry. She nodded, satisfied. “Yes. He’s fine.”

“What can we do about Malfoy’s magic?” Harry asked.

“I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do. His magic has been drained from him, and no one knows what happens to the magic that’s been drained by the Killing Curse.”

“I’m basically a squib then?” Malfoy asked. Harry noted that he didn’t sound upset, simply defeated.

Pomfrey placed a hand on Malfoy’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I must tell Headmistress McGonagall of this unfortunate news. I’ll leave you to it.” Pomfrey nodded politely to the both of them alone in the hospital wing.

The silence that ensued was somber. Harry and Malfoy said nothing to each other. Harry sat back in his seat and watched Malfoy stare wistfully out of the window. It seemed like it was going to be another unnaturally warm December day. The sky looked clear and the sun was shining brightly through the windows, illuminating the floor and the surrounding area. Harry wished it was raining instead. Malfoy had just received some of the worst news of his life and it seemed like nature was mocking him.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said.

Malfoy turned to him. “What for?”

 “I used your wand to fight Voldemort,” Harry admitted. “If I hadn’t done that, you’d still have your magic.”

Malfoy roughly grabbed Harry’s chin and turned Harry’s face in his direction. He looked angry “Don’t say that Potter. If you hadn’t used my wand you could’ve died and the Dark Lord would’ve have killed dozens of more people, including me. I might not have any magic, but being alive is far better than being dead.”

Malfoy kissed him briefly. When he pulled back, he ran his fingers through Harry’s hair. Harry looked into Malfoy’s eyes. He was surprised. Malfoy seemed to be taking the situation extremely well. Harry wondered if he was pretending to be strong or if he actually was. Harry truly did admire Malfoy’s strength. If the situation was reversed Harry was sure he would have been beyond angry, not sitting there as calm as Malfoy seemed.

“I love you,” Harry blurted.

****

Draco stared wide-eyed. He immediately stopped running his hands through Potter’s hair. Draco dropped his hand to the hospital bed. The first time Potter had said he loved him; the words whispered over his ear, his heart had swelled. Harry Potter was in love with him and it had felt good, but this would make twice that Potter told him he was in love him and also twice that Draco didn’t respond.

Draco stared at Potter. The man had clearly been expecting a response. Draco dropped his hand. Potter’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. Tears pooled in Potter’s eyes and then Draco felt terrible. He didn’t want Potter to cry, especially not because of him. Draco leaned over and kissed Potter, hoping it would be enough to distract Potter. Draco felt guilty enough seeing Potter’s eyes get wet; he didn’t want to feel even worse if those tears actually fell.

Draco ended the kiss and pulled back from Potter. Potter’s eyes had dried up, but he still looked at Draco expectantly.

Though he couldn’t tell Potter what he wanted to hear, Draco could at least give him something. “Thank you for telling me that,” he said. Potter smiled a little and placed his hand over Draco’s.  Draco continued, “But I can’t say it back.”

Potter tried to pull away. “No wait.” Draco placed his own hand over Potter’s, keeping him in place. “I like you Potter. A lot,” he said raising his eyebrows for emphasis. “I…might even love you.” Draco smiled as Potter perked up at that. “But, I’m not exactly sure what love really feels like, and I don’t want to tell you that I love you until I’m absolutely certain I do. You deserve that Potter.”

“I do?”

Draco nodded. “You do.” Draco caressed the back of Potter’s hand with his thumb. “If it’s any consolation, I’m not certain if I love you _now_ , but if things keep going the way they are, I’m certain that I will.”

Potter smiled and nodded. “I love you,” he said to Draco for the third time.

Potter flipped his hand over and intertwined their fingers. He kissed Draco’s knuckles before saying “We’ll work something out. There has to be something we can do.”

He and Potter had been doing an awful lot of magical research this year. They finally gotten around to finding a possible solution to Harry’s problem, and now they’d start looking for one for his too. Draco wasn’t sure there was one, and he also wasn’t sure he even cared to find one. Regardless of the outcome, Draco was glad he had Potter on his side.


	20. Chapter 20

Draco and Harry stood outside of McGonagall’s office. They’d waited until almost the last minute to say goodbye to each other before Draco was to floo off to the mansion.

“Are you going tell your parents?” Potter asked.

Draco shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“You should at least tell your mother.”

Draco nodded. “Perhaps,” he said simply. Draco placed his arms around Harry’s neck and hugged him tight. “I’ll miss you Potter,” surprised that he was being so open. “Happy holidays.”

Potter squeezed him back. The hug ended far too soon for Draco, but he realized they had to let go at some point. His parents were expecting him. Draco waved a swift goodbye to Potter and took the winding staircase up to the Headmistress’s door.

McGonagall was in her office when Draco stepped in. She stood up from behind the desk. “I’m very sorry about what happened Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco waved a hand. “It’s alright. These things happen,” he said definitively.

The headmistress smiled sadly. “You’ll get through it, I’m sure.” She changed the subject. “The floo is ready if you are.”

Draco nodded once. He stepped over to the fireplace, threw in a handful of powder, shouted Malfoy Manor, and stepped through the fire.  On the other side, his mother and father were waiting for him. Draco went over and hugged his mother tightly.

Narcissa wrapped her arms around Draco tightly and told him she missed him. Draco told her that he missed her too, a smile on his face. They released each other.

Lucius stood from his armchair. He leaned heavily against his cane and told Draco that he’d missed him as well.

Draco didn’t really believe the man’s words but he nodded and greeted him. “Father.”

Neither Draco nor Lucius said anything else. They stood staring at each other for a few seconds before Lucius sighed and left the room.

“You should have hugged your father,” Narcissa scolded. “It’s been so long since you last seen each other.”

“Likewise,” Draco said. “He could have hugged me too.” Draco was glad that he hadn’t. He hated his father at the moment. He wasn’t about to dole out hugs to the man, and pretend that wasn’t the case.

“Go unpack,” Narcissa said squeezing Draco’s shoulder. “We got a lot to catch up on.

After dinner, Draco met his mother in her study for a late night chat. During the summer, he and his mother had become accustomed to meeting a few hours after dinner to talk about the trivial things that had been on their minds. The talks had never been anything serious, but over the months, Draco had come to cherish them. He had always been close to his mother, but their chats were something that had brought them even closer.

Draco settled into the chair across from his mother. Tea and shortbread had already been set out. Narcissa munched quietly on a biscuit, holding a plate underneath so the crumbs wouldn’t fall to the floor.

After another bite, she set the biscuit on the plate and set the plate on the small table between the two of them. “So,” Narcissa started. “What have you been up to, My Darling?”

“Nothing much,” Draco replied. He told his mother about the classes he was taking and how he was preparing for the upcoming NEWTs. “Everything is going well,” he assured her.

“Have you made any new friends?”

Draco nodded. “I have actually. Harry Potter and I have gotten close recently.”

Narcissa raised her eyebrows. “That’s unexpected, but it’s great that the two of you can move on and get along now.”

Draco nodded and looked into his tea. The mention of Potter reminded him of earlier that morning, when Potter had pretty much promised him that they’d fix his magic problem. Draco hadn’t thought about Potter or magic for most of the day. He purposely made sure his mind had been kept preoccupied when he returned to the mansion, but now, casually talking to his mother gave him time to think about it.

“What’s wrong?”

Draco felt tears pricking at his eyeballs.  “Nothing, Mother.”

Draco heard a harsh clink and looked up to see that his mother had set her cup of tea down on its saucer, hard enough that some had splashed out of the cup.

“Don’t lie to me Draco.”

Draco gulped. A lump formed in his throat and He blinked rapidly, trying to blink back the tears. When the news of his depleted magic had come, Draco had been able to hold himself together surprisingly well in front of Potter, but his mother staring through him was making him feel far more vulnerable.

Draco took a sip of his tea. The heat of it warmed his throat and took the lump down with it. Draco really didn’t want to tell his mother about his magic. She’d be devastated. He knew he’d have to tell her one day, but Draco was sure he didn’t want today to be that day.

Draco chose to tell his mother what he believed to be the lesser of two evils. “Harry Potter and I aren’t just friends, Mother. We’ve started seeing one another.”

Narcissa laughed and smiled warmly at Draco. “We’ll you’re just full of surprises aren’t you?”

Draco smiled back, enjoying that he’d further caught his mother by surprise.

“That’s even more unexpected than the two of you being friends, but I’m happy for you.” After a pause she said, “I told you someone would see the real you.”

“You did,” Draco agreed. Draco had known a long time ago that his mother was always right. At the beginning of the school year, he that thought for sure that he’d spend his last year at Hogwarts, with his head down, keeping to himself, and fading into the background, but then the whole thing with Potter had happened and things hadn’t turned out at all like Draco thought they would have. “You’re always right mother.”

“Don’t you forget it.”

Draco wouldn’t. He made a vow to himself right there, to always pay heed to his what his mother said. She was wise indeed.

*****

           

The Golden Trio met in the eighth year common room. While the other eighth years had chosen to go home for the holidays, Harry, Hermione and Ron all stayed behind in order to take care of all the research they still had to do. The three of them sat in the common room for a long while, each one of them taking notes with every few pages that had been turned, but Harry had stopped taking notes suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” Ron asked him.

Harry sighed. “Nothing. There’s just something on my mind.”

“What is it?” Hermione asked.

Harry wondered if he should tell his friends about Malfoy. It wasn’t really his business to tell, but perhaps they’d be able to help. So Harry told them all about what had happened. He hoped Malfoy wouldn’t be upset with him for telling them.

“Is he going to be alright?” Hermione was concerned.

“Yeah of course. He just won’t have much magic, if he still has any left at all.”

“I couldn’t imagine becoming a squib,” Ron lamented. “I don’t even like Malfoy, but I feel sorry for him.”

Hermione shot Ron a look, but Harry paid his friend no mind. “Madame Pomfrey said there wasn’t anything that could be done, but I told Draco that I’d figure something out.”

“We can help too. If you like.” Hermione said, volunteering for herself and Ron.

“I don’t like the git, but sure. I can help too mate. Now there’ll be more research on top of figuring out this whole transferring magic thing.”

Harry sat up quickly. He suddenly had an idea. “Maybe I won’t try to transfer my magic into the Room of Requirement. Can you transfer magic to a person?”

Hermione squinted at him and then her eyes widened. She must’ve caught on. “Yes, Harry you can. A person would count as a vessel, but there haven’t been many people who’ve attempted to do so because they’re unsure of the repercussions. Like I said before, it’s hard to control how much magic is transferred. You _could_ transfer your magic to Malfoy, but there’d be no way to ensure that you wouldn’t transfer more magic than intended.”

Harry pondered that over. “There’s no way to see how much magic is being transferred?”

Hermione shook her head. “We can only tell afterwards how much power someone has.”

“Could we transfer the magic back from Malfoy after it’s been transferred?”

“No,” Hermione said. “A magic transfer can only be done once between the same two people. That’s why it’s risky.”

“Risky or not,” Harry said. “I’m doing it. I’m trying to get rid of the extra magic, so I might as well give it someone who could use it right?” Harry said cheerfully.

“But what if you become a squib, trying to help out Malfoy?” Ron asked.

Harry sat up straight and placed his hands on his knees. “That won’t happen,” he promised. Harry could tell that his friends wanted to argue, but he didn’t give them the chance. “Let’s start researching the spells and potions we need so when Malfoy gets back from hols we can get started.

Hermione and Ron didn’t say anything else. Resigned, they both pulled several textbooks out and flipped through them to find what they needed. Harry wasn’t particularly worried about the magic transfer. He wanted to help Malfoy, whatever it took. Even if Harry potentially could become a squib, Harry was okay with that, as long as he could make sure Malfoy wouldn’t have to be.

*****

 

Draco was all smiles after his visit with Blaise and Pansy. They had been excited to see him and of course he had been excited to see them as well. The two of them had been nosey as usual, asking him all about his and Potter’s relationship. Draco had told them a few details and after that, the questions wouldn’t stop. Though the meddling annoyed Draco to no end, he wasn’t entirely against telling them. It actually made him feel good knowing that his friends were happy for him and wished him the best.

On the way back from the drawing room, Draco made his way up the staircase to get back to his room. Unfortunately, his father had chosen that exact time to go down them and Draco couldn’t help but to acknowledge his father’s presence. Draco nodded briefly and continued on his way.

Draco reached the top of the staircase. He turned around and noticed that Lucius had followed him up.

“May I speak with you for a moment?” His father asked.

“I don’t have the time.”

“I know about your relationship with Potter,” Lucius stated.

Draco stopped and sighed. “Mother told you then?”

“I have a right to know what’s going on in my son’s life.”

“My life is my business,” Draco replied. “If I don’t choose to tell you about it, then you don’t have a right to know.”

“I wish you would tell me yourself then,” Lucius said leaning on his cane with both hands. “I care about what’s happening to you.”

Draco scoffed. “That’s funny. You never cared before.”

Lucius swallowed. “You’re right.”

Draco was surprised. He would have expected his father to deny that for the rest of his life, but he’d been blatantly honest and admitted that he truly hadn’t cared before. Draco was sure that would have hurt it if he hadn’t already come to terms.

Lucius continued. “I didn’t care much before. I know that. I should have paid more attention to you. I never for a moment thought that I was wrong for following the Dark Lord. Neither did I believe I was wrong for insisting that you do the same.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

Lucius placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “I was wrong. Wrong for my beliefs, for my actions, and for what I forced you into. I’m sorry for that.” He cleared his throat. “But the Dark Lord is gone. It doesn’t matter how I felt about the man. You’re here, you’re alive, and you’re my son. You’re what’s important.”

“You have no problem with your son dating a half blood?” Draco questioned.

The grip on Draco’s shoulder tightened. “I’m trying not to. Blood purity has always been important to me, but I realize that if I ever want you to be my son again, I should realign my thinking and start seeing past blood. I can do that. For you.”

Lucius let go of Draco’s shoulder and stared directly into Draco’s eyes. A shiver went down Draco’s spine when he did. Draco couldn’t remember the last time his father had looked at him so intently.

“I miss you.”

Draco didn’t believe him. “How can you say you miss me? You don’t even know me.”

“Exactly.” Lucius agreed. “I was so caught up with the Dark Lord, I missed out on the bond a father should share with his son. The war is over now, and it’s only shown me just how distant I’ve been from you. I hadn’t noticed before, but it’s glaringly obvious now. I’d like to make up for lost time and become a proper father to you Draco. I don’t want to hear about your life through Narcissa. You’re my son and you should feel comfortable telling me about these things too.”

“But I don’t. I probably never will.”

Lucius slowly lowered himself to the ground. He laid his cane off to the side and rested on his knees in front of Draco. Draco couldn’t help the shocked look that crossed his face. He gaped at his father. His father was stooping so low, he was willing to literally beg Draco. Surely the man had been in this position many times in front of Voldemort begging him for whatever reason, and now Draco was finding himself on the other end of it. It was so pathetic it was almost funny.

His father grabbed his hand and held it tightly. “Give me another chance,” he pleaded.  “It doesn’t have to be right now, tomorrow, or even a year from now, but would you be kind enough to give me the opportunity to be the father I should have been? I know I don’t deserve it, but I want you to forgive me.”

Draco looked down at Lucius, briefly wondering if the man would lower himself to this if he knew Draco was this close to becoming a squib. Maybe the man could accept Draco being involved with Potter, lower blood status or no, the man had saved the wizarding world, but having a squib son? Malfoy’s had been disowned for that.

Lucius’s eyes bored into him. There were lines etched around them and other places around his face. The hair that framed his face had gone from blond to grey in a matter of months. Even the hand holding Draco’s looked thin and frailer than usual. Draco turned his head away. The man kneeling before him was not the father Draco once knew.

Draco felt sorry for him. He had hated his father for a long time now, but he admitted that he envied the air of confidence his father once walked around with. Even when he was wrong. All traces of that were gone now. He was a shell of who he’d once been. Perhaps that was a good thing. He’d surely be a different person now.

Draco thought about himself. He’d been a terrible person in the years prior, but he was completely different now. Potter had seen that and given him a chance. Could Draco not do the same for his own flesh and blood? He really didn’t want to. He looked down at his father. A single tear slipped from his father’s eye and trailed down his pallid face. Draco took a deep breath. He owed his father absolutely nothing, but he could give him a second chance just this once.

“I don’t know if you and I can ever be close. Even if we do become close it will never be to the extent I am with close with mother, but we can try.”

Draco took his hand from his father. He left the man kneeling there as he walked off in the direction of his room. Sobs echoed through the empty hallway. Draco didn’t look back.


	21. Chapter 21

It was the day before holidays were officially over. It had been a long couple weeks for Harry. He’d spent most of his time doing research with Ron and Hermione and when he wasn’t researching, he was thinking about Malfoy. He missed him something awful. He hadn’t expected that not seeing him for a couple weeks would take quite a toll on him, but Harry was clearly far more gone than he’d thought. It was just Harry’s luck that Draco had agreed to come back a day early.

Malfoy brushed the soot off his robes after he stepped through the floo in McGonagall’s office. He seemed surprised that Harry was there waiting for him. Harry rushed torward and Malfoy caught him in his arms. Harry squeezed him tightly and buried his face in the space between Malfoy’s neck. Harry breathed in as deeply as he could. He missed the way Malfoy smelled as well. 

“How was your holiday?” Harry asked.

“It was fine. It was good to see my friends and Mother again.”

Harry snuggled into Malfoy more. He really, really, missed him,

“I’ve decided to give my father another chance. What do you think about that?”

Harry pulled away from Malfoy, but he kept his arms firmly wrapped around his back. “What am I supposed to think? If that’s what you want, then I’m okay with it.”

Malfoy smiled. “Thanks for the potions books. I don’t know where you got them, considering they’re extremely rare first editions, but I love them.”

Harry pulled Malfoy by the hand down the staircase. “I didn’t have to do much. I have money and my name gets my foot in the door when it comes to most things. So they were pretty easy to get really. There’s not much you can’t have when you’re Harry Potter.”

Malfoy shook his head exasperatedly. “Don’t be so full of yourself Potter. It’s very unbecoming.”

Harry shrugged. “I guess you’ve rubbed off on me. In more ways than one,” he said teasingly, nudging Malfoy in the side.

Malfoy smacked his elbow away. “How was your holiday?”

“It was fine,” Harry replied. “Me, Ron, and Hermione stuck around and figured out how we can get your magic back.”

Malfoy stopped and leaned against a wall. He crossed his arms over his chest. “McGonagall and Pomfrey both said there’s nothing we can do.”

“Well there’s one thing, “ Harry said raising his index finger. “We’re trying to transfer some of my magic right?”

Draco nodded slowly and then his eyes widened as he caught on. “You want to transfer your magic to me instead? Is that not dangerous?”

Harry scratched his head.  “It is a little. Only because there hasn’t been much research about it. We can’t control how much magic is transferred, but it’s a good solution. It would solve both our problems”

“It also sounds like it could create even more problems,” Malfoy said. He grabbed Harry’s forearm and pulled him towards him. “I can’t let you do that Potter. I can get used to not having magic, and we can get yours under control eventually. Living without magic isn’t bad, muggles do it every day. And it won’t hurt you to have more magic than normal. You’ll find a way to live with it too”

Harry thought about that. He looked up at Malfoy. It seemed he was being sincere. He truly didn’t think it was a problem living without magic and of course he didn’t think it was a huge problem for Harry to live with more of it than necessary. Malfoy was absolutely right that it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing for Harry. He could probably eventually get used to overpowered spells and maybe even learn to control them, but there was the little issue of the one spell Harry wasn’t capable of controlling.

“Malfoy,” Harry said. Standing in the middle of a random corridor was the last place Harry wanted to have this conversation, but he was suddenly feeling his conscious kick in and he felt like now was a good time to come clean. “

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Having more magic isn’t hurting me at all, but..”

“But what?”

“But…but it is hurting other people,” Harry finally got out.

“I can see you concern,” Draco aid. “You just have to be careful about what you cast at other people so that they don’t get hurt. Unless you’re casting curses of course,” Malfoy chuckled.

“People have already been hurt,” Harry said.

“What do you mean?”

Harry couldn’t bring himself to look at Malfoy. He wanted to tell him the truth, but he just couldn’t do it if he was looking directly at him. He knew he’d probably back his way out of it somehow making up some lie he’d hope Malfoy would believe. If he was going to tell the truth he had to look away. He didn’t want to see the disappointment written all over Malfoy’s face when he found out exactly what Harry had done to him.

“There’s one spell…curse,” Harry corrected. “That I’ve been casting at people.  Involuntarily.” Harry took a deep breath. “I’ve been casting the Imperius Curse at people. If I really want someone to do something…then they will.” Harry rushed his last words.

Harry took a chance and looked up at Malfoy. He appeared to be thinking over what Harry had said.

“That can be worked out too. You said it’s been happening involuntarily, so you’re not doing it on purpose.”

Harry didn’t say anything. He stared intently into Malfoy’s eyes, hoping he could read what Harry was trying to say without Harry actually saying it.

Harry watched as Malfoy’s eyes opened comically wide. “Have you done it intentionally?” Malfoy asked.

Harry nodded.

“To who?”

Harry said nothing.

“To who?” Malfoy insisted.

Harry looked away again. Tears started to form in his eyes. He blinked rapidly attempting to hold them back. He still wasn’t sure he could stop them from falling when he turned back around to Malfoy.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Harry watched as Malfoy squinted at him, clearly confused as to what Harry was apologizing for. He watched as Malfoy’s face slowly shifted from confusion to shock as he started to grasp what Harry was saying.

Harry grabbed Malfoy’s hand. He squeezed it tightly. “I’m sorry,” he apologized again.

****

The sound of Potter’s apology was muffled. Draco barely heard it over the thoughts that were buzzing through the fog in his mind.  Potter had imperiused him? When had that happened? What had he made him do?  Draco looked up at Potter. Potter was still staring at him, tears streaming down his face.

“When?” asked Draco.

Potter rapidly shook his head. He made no attempt at explaining.

Draco snatched his hand away from Potter.  “When?” he asked again.

“I don’t remember the exact dates.”

Draco raised his eyebrows. “Dates?” he questioned. “You’ve done this to me more than once?”

Potter nodded.

Draco couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “How could you do that to me?”

“I’m sorry,” Potter said pleadingly. “I shouldn’t have. I really didn’t mean to do it the first time.”

“But you had no problem doing it the times after that?”

Potter wiped the tears away from his face with his sleeve. “I don’t have any excuses,” he said. “All I can say is I’m sorry.”

“What did you do?” Draco asked.

“What?”

“What did you make me do?”

Potter took a deep breath and said, “I made you tell me why you joined Voldemort. I made you kiss me once.”

Draco felt anger rising inside of him. He was upset before at this revelation, but what Potter was telling him now was so far beyond ridiculous, Draco didn’t know what to feel except for furious anger. How dare Potter violate him in such a way? Draco could feel his hands shaking. He wanted nothing more than to ball up his fist and punch Potter in the face.

 “There’s one more thing.”

“What?” Draco spit.

“I had you tell me that you love me too.”

Draco eyed Potter. It really couldn’t get any more shocking than that could it? Draco’s voice came out surprisingly calm. “When did you do that?”

“The night before you went home.”

“When?”

“When we were…” Potter paused. “When I told you I loved you the first time and you didn’t say it back. I don’t know. I told you I loved you. And you didn’t say anything. I wanted you to say it back. To tell me you loved me too. So I made you.”

Draco nodded, taking everything in. Potter had stolen a kiss from him and he’d stolen his agency too. Draco wanted to tell Potter for the first time when he truly felt it. And Potter had forced him to say it instead.

Draco licked his lips, “You wanted to hear it that bad? You couldn’t wait until I told you on my own?”

Draco laughed. It was a low almost frightening type of laugh. Draco could barely believe it was coming out of him. It was funny that Potter couldn’t wait until Draco was capable of telling him how he felt on his own. Apparently Potter just couldn’t wait for a genuine declaration. It was even funnier that Draco hadn’t been sure if he loved Potter when he first confessed to him but he was sure now.

“I love you Harry,” Draco said.

Potter looked scandalized. Draco wasn’t sure if it was due to the declaration or the use of his first name or both.

“I love you,” Draco repeated, sounding resigned. “I know I do now, because if I didn’t, this wouldn’t hurt so fucking much.”

With that, Draco turned away from Potter. He ran down the corridor, not even sure where he was going, Potter screaming his name behind him. For the first time in a long time, Draco felt the dam he’d put up break, and tears went streaming down his face.

****

           

Harry headed to the dorm. He didn’t expect to find anyone when he entered the portrait hole, but he wound up running into both Ron and Hermione the minute he stepped into the common room. Harry wiped away his tears, but his friends had already seen them.

“What’s wrong, mate?” Ron asked.

“Have you seen Draco?” Harry asked.

“You’re calling him Draco now? “Ron teased. “Guess you two have gotten even closer.”

Harry ignored him. He hadn’t consciously called Draco by his first name, but it seemed right after Draco had used his. He didn’t want to go back to using Malfoy.

They both shook their heads.

Hermione grabbed Harry’s wrist and pulled him over to one of the couches in front of the blazing fire.  “What’s wrong? Why’ve you been crying?”

“I think me and Draco are over. I told him about the Imperius Curse.”

“He was upset by that?” Hermione questioned. “Why?”

 Harry sighed before telling his friends the truth. “I’ve imperiused him a few times. Purposely, he added.

Twin gasps came from his friends mouths. They were both clearly shocked.

“How could you have done that Harry?” Hermione asked.

“I wasn’t thinking clearly when I’d done it. I wish I had.”

“You’ve messed up big time,” Ron said.

“You think I don’t know that?” Harry asked angrily.

“I’m just saying,” Ron replied. “Did you tell Malfoy about the magic transfer?” he continued.

Harry nodded.  “I did. But I’m sure Draco’s not going to want to do it now. I still want to though,  not for me, but for Draco. I don’t want him to live without magic if he doesn’t have to, especially not after what I’ve done to him. I owe him that much at least.”

Hermione patted Harry on the back and Ron sat quietly beside him.

****

It seemed to Harry, that Draco had made it his mission to avoid him. There were no more lunch dates, no more sitting together in class, and every time Harry attempted to get Draco’s attention,  Draco made sure to look away. Harry had assumed that the only time Draco couldn’t avoid him was when they were in the dorm, but Draco had managed a trick for that too. If he spotted Harry, he simply got into his bed and closed the curtains. Harry didn’t dare disturb him when he did.

Harry wanted to give Draco his space, but he wanted to talk to him too. One day, between classes he happened to catch Draco in one of the corridors.

Harry stood in the middle of the corridor and blocked Draco’s path. “Can we talk?”

Draco sighed heavily, but to Harry’s surprise. He agreed.

Harry led Draco into an empty classroom. Draco followed quietly behind him. Once they got there, Harry dumped his bag on one of the desks. He waited for Draco to follow suit, but he just stood against the door, arms crossed, appearing as nonchalant as he probably could. Harry hoped it was just an act, and not that Draco really didn’t care anymore.

“Draco,” Harry started. “I know you’re mad at me-“

Draco scoffed. “Mad? Potter, I’m furious.”

“Yeah,” Harry swallowed. “Of course you are. And you have every right to be, but I just wanted to talk to you.  To tell you that you should still do the transfer.”

“And if I don’t?” Draco asked. “Are you going to make me?” he challenged.

Harry rubbed his eyes between his glasses. That was a low blow. It was well deserved of course, but it still hurt. “I’d never do that again,“ Harry promised. “I just want to help you.”

“What for?”

 _Because I love you_ , Harry almost said, but he was sure Draco wouldn’t react well to that. Not right now. “I feel so guilty for what I did to you. I should never have done it. I want to do something _for_ you now instead of _to_ you.”

“So you want to give me your magic so you can assuage your guilt. Nice one. Do something good for me so you feel good about screwing me over. How very noble of you,” Draco said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

Harry stared at the floor. “You’re right,” he said. “I can’t deny that that’s partly the reason.”

Harry looked back up to gauge Draco’s reaction, but he found himself suddenly pushed back into one of the tables, the wood digging into the back of his thighs. Draco was in his face, so close Harry could smell the cologne Draco was fond of wearing. He wore a scowl that reminded Harry of the years before the war when the two of them didn’t get along. Harry had never thought much of it then. It had been just Malfoy trying to intimidate him like the prat he was, but being on the other end of it now, Harry’s heart raced while he wondered what Draco might do.

Harry clenched his eyes shut and waited for the possible hit it seemed Draco might give him, but instead of punching him, Draco pushed his lips against Harry’s. Thoughts of Draco forgiving him flitted through Harry’s mind before he realized that that wasn’t what was happening at all. Draco wasn’t kissing him like a lover would. He had roughly smashed his lips against Harry’s haphazardly and was pressing into Harry with a lot more force than was necessary. Draco’s nose knocked into Harry’s, and his teeth grazed over Harry’s lips roughly. It _hurt_ and Harry wanted it to stop.

He pushed Draco away from him and wiped at his lips. His lips felt sore and swollen, but he didn’t think they were bleeding. “Why did you-“ Harry started to ask.

Draco cut him off. “Not fond of forced kisses?” Draco asked. “I thought that was your thing.”

Once again, Harry had been stung by Draco’s words. So that had been payback for when Harry had kissed him without his permission? While Harry’s forced kiss had been far less violent, it was still something Draco hadn’t wanted and Harry hadn’t respected that. The anger that had risen in Harry dissipated. He found that he couldn’t stay mad.

“I’m sorry,” Harry apologized.

“I heard you the first time, but sorry isn’t enough,” Draco paused before saying, “I did like you Potter, but now I don’t know what to think when you were imperiusing me this entire time. Did you make me like you too? Did you Imperius me to make me fall in love with you too?”

Harry jumped to defend himself. “Of course not! You wouldn’t even remember liking me if I’d done that. You fell for me on your own. I had nothing to do with that. That doesn’t even make sense.”

Draco sighed and turned towards the door. “This whole thing doesn’t make sense,” he said and rushed out of the classroom before Harry could say anything more.


	22. Chapter 22

Draco sat alone at the Slytherin table staring into his pea soup, the conversation he’d had with Potter just the day before still on his mind. He still couldn’t believe what Potter had done to him. Potter, whom Draco thought was always far too morally upright, had showed Draco he was really everything but.

Draco stirred his soup, before he dropped the spoon into his bowl. He looked up and across to the Gryffindor table, wondering what Potter was up to. Potter was apparently doing just as much contemplating as Draco was doing. Draco could see him staring down at the table, ripping a piece of bread into little pieces, while Granger and Weasley attempted to get his attention. Potter looked up and made eye contact with Draco. Draco looked away quickly.

Potter looked a bit worse for wear. Draco was positive the man hadn’t been sleeping much. If the bags underneath his eyes weren’t indication enough, Draco knew he hadn’t because Draco hadn’t been sleeping much either.  He’d heard and seen Potter get up and leave the dorm room for the past few nights, only to return hours later while Draco himself was still wide awake thinking about what happened between them.

Draco sighed. Unfortunately for him, he felt bad for Potter. The state of their relationship was clearly taking a toll on Potter. Not that it wasn’t taking a toll on him too. He missed Potter terribly. He missed speaking with him, laughing with him, touching him. He really wished Potter hadn’t done what he’d done. The two of them could have been sitting together right now, joyfully eating lunch like they had many times before, but Potter had to ruin that by being selfish and taking things from Draco that he wasn’t yet willing to give.

A swift movement towards the entrance of the Great Hall caught Draco’s eye. He looked over and saw Potter quickly leaving the room. Draco stood up and followed him. Once he was out of the doors, Draco looked around to see what direction Potter had gone off to. He saw him and followed him up several flights of stairs, until they reached the seventh floor.

“Potter!”  Draco called out.

Potter stopped in his tracks. “Draco?” He turned towards him. “What-“

“I need to speak to you Potter.”

“O-okay. Sure. Sure,” Potter said nervously. “We could go to the Room of Requirement?”

At one point, Draco’s clearest memories of the Room were of fiendfyre and his friends dying, but this year,  he  and Potter had created good memories in that room. Draco didn’t want to taint it again with what was sure to be an unpleasant conversation.

Draco walked further down the hallway and led Potter into an empty storage room. “We can talk in here,” he said. He allowed Potter to enter first and closed the door behind himself.

“What was it you wanted to talk about?” Potter asked.

“When did you find out you could Imperius people?”

 “Earlier this year. Before me and you even became friends.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Draco asked.

“I didn’t want you to know at first. We hadn’t gotten that close yet.” Potter rushed, “I was going to tell you. I prom-“

Draco cut Potter off. “You didn’t trust me.” Draco stated.

Potter gulped and looked away. “Not completely. Not at the time.”

Draco scoffed. “That’s a laugh, don’t you think?”  Draco smirked. “You didn’t trust me, when clearly it was me who shouldn’t have trusted you.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Potter said as he attempted to reach out and take Draco’s hand.

Draco stepped back before he could.  “Don’t touch me Potter.” Potter looked hurt, but Draco really couldn’t have cared less at the moment.

“I really don’t know why I did that to you Draco. I really don’t.  It’s Voldemort’s magic,” Potter said. “It consumed me. Made me stop thinking properly.”

 “Excuses,” Draco gritted through his teeth.  “We’ve been over this before Potter. It doesn’t matter where the magic came from, once it’s inside you, it is yours and yours to control. I know you can’t control your magic properly all the time, but there were plenty of times when you could. You purposely imperiused me.  Several times. You admitted to that. And you did it not because the Dark Lord’s magic forced you to, but because you wanted to Potter. It’s as simple as that.”

Potter’s eyes welled up, but the tears didn’t fall. He licked his lips and spoke quietly. “You’re right,” he said. “You’re right. It had nothing to do with Voldemort. It was all me. I know that. I should have told you about the Curse the first time it happened, and I never should have done it to you the times after that. I am so sorry Draco,” The tears streaked Potter’s face now. He reached for Draco’s hand again and Draco let him hold it this time. “I was so selfish, I didn’t even think about how much I was hurting you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too, Potter,” Draco replied. He placed his hand Potter’s and softly caressed his skin. “I’m sorry, because, despite what you did, I think that this-what we have together, may be one of the best things that has ever happened to me.

“It is?”

Draco nodded. “It is,” He caressed Potter’s hand one last time. “Or at least it was.” He pulled his hand away from Potter’s. “I don’t think I can do this anymore,”  he said and left Potter standing in the room calling after him, as he ran away.

 

****

Potter attempted to speak to him several times after their last encounter, but Draco managed to consistently refuse him each time. He heard what Potter had to say and frankly, he didn’t want to hear any more of it, especially not any nonsense about the magic transfer. Draco hadn’t even really thought about it since Potter had brought it up. He hadn’t had the time to. He was far more focused on the fact that Harry had betrayed his trust so spectacularly. 

After potions class, where the professor droned on and on about upcoming NEWTs Draco couldn’t focus on, Draco packed up his stuff in a daze.

“Draco,” Draco heard his name and looked up. The classroom was empty except for Potter and himself. Draco ignored him and continued packing up his supplies.

“Can I talk to you again?” he asked, following Draco to the door.

“I have nothing more to say to you.”

“Talk to me,” Potter pleaded.

Draco stopped. He felt a warmth wash over him and he suddenly felt extremely inclined to go and speak to Potter, to listen to what he had to say. Draco was about to do exactly that when clarity hit him instantly. He blinked a few times and realized where he was and what was happening.

He whirled on Harry, “How dare you?” Draco seethed. He clenched his fist around the strap of his bag. He needed to hold onto something because he was sure he’d hit Potter this time if he didn’t.

Potter waved his hands back and forth. “I swear I didn’t mean to do that,” he said frantically.  “I really can’t help it sometimes. I told you I’d never do that to you again and I meant it, I really did.” Harry placed his arms back down by his side. “I really want to help you Draco. Part of me does want to do it because it’ll make me feel better. But I really do love you and I really don’t want to see you living like a muggle, especially if there’s something I can do about it.”

“It’s always about you, isn’t it Potter. The reason you imperiused me in the first place is because you wanted things from me that I wasn’t willing to give you yet. You’re just as egotistical as I always thought you were. “

“Maybe I am,” he agreed. “But I want to do this for you. Let me do it for you, and then you never have to speak to me ever again. I promise.”

Draco mulled it over. Eventually, he agreed. “Okay. I’ll do it.” Harry had done him wrong on so many levels and now here he was offering up his magic to Draco. Draco didn’t have to forgive him, but he could take a page out of Potter’s book. He could be selfish and take what Potter was offering to him. Draco could have his magic back and not have to worry about Harry Potter ever again. It was a win-win situation and Draco thought he should take advantage of it.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the last chapter! Writing and editing this story has been quite the journey. It is ten times harder for me writing something this long, but it was fun. Its not quite what I wanted, but I hope you all enjoy it regardless. Thanks to everyone for the comments and kudos!

Breaking up with Potter, dumped Draco out of his day dreams and promptly back into reality. Without Potter around Draco found himself feeling alone and isolated once more. He hadn’t noticed that he still didn’t have anyone he could lean on in the entirety of Hogwarts. Potter had been with him every single day, since they’d become friends, and he’d filled that gap that Draco needed filled.

It hurt to go back to the place Draco had been in when he’d first arrived back at Hogwarts. Draco spent most of his days alone, aside from classes. He missed Potter. Especially when he’d look up in the Great Hall or in his classes and see Potter sitting with his friends looking just as miserable as Draco felt. On several occasions, he thought about taking the plunge and maybe telling Potter he’d forgive him and he’d take him back. He did love Potter after all, but each time the thought crossed his mind, he’d remember what Potter had done to him and wondered if Potter really loved _him_. If he did, how could he hurt him like that?

The magic transfer was set up over the course of a few days. Draco and Potter saw each other in passing, but Potter made no attempts to arouse any more conversation between the two of them. _Granger_ had met with Draco a few times however, acting as a go between, and informing Draco of the things that would take place during the transfer and how he should prepare himself for it.

Preparations had been completed and the magic transfer was happening. Draco stepped into an empty classroom that the Trio was already occupying. He greeted Granger and Weasley politely and only gave Potter a cursory glance.

“The two of you come stand at the front of the room,” Granger said. “I know you’ve both heard it already, but I’ll explain what’s going to happen again.”

Granger handed them both a vial filled with a purple potion. Draco downed his in a single gulp and noticed Potter had done the same. It tasted like flowers and peppermint, and the aftertaste unfortunately reminded Draco of dirt. It worked quickly after it slid down his throat, and calmed him both physically and emotionally, just enough to prepare him for the magic transfer.

Draco sat down on the floor first and Potter followed. They sat with their legs crossed underneath them, facing each other. Granger told them to get closer and to hold each other’s hands. Draco was reluctant, he hadn’t touched Potter in weeks and he didn’t want to now, but he knew it was a necessary step for the transfer to take place. He placed his hands out, palms up. Potter placed his hands in Draco’s, making sure to avoid all eye contact.

“Let’s get this over with,” Harry said to Granger.

Granger nodded firmly and told Weasley to take a few steps back. She had taken it upon herself to be the one that would lead the magic transfer, guiding Draco and Potter along the way. She spoke to Potter. “Focus all you energy on visualizing yourself physically pushing your magic into Malfoy.” She spoke to Draco next. “You should focus on visualizing accepting the magic into your body,” She spoke to the both of them. “You both need to visualize what the magic looks like. You should agree on that now”

“What do you think?” Potter asked Draco.

Draco shrugged and offered up a suggestion so they could get this over with as soon as possible. Potter’s hands were warm above his, and it only reminded him of the countless times they cuddled and held hands in the Room of Requirement. Draco didn’t want to want that again. “Let’s just visualize it as a beam of light.”

“What colour?” Harry asked.

Draco rolled his eyes.

“You need to be specific,” Granger chimed in. “Colour is important.”

Draco rolled his eyes again. “White,” he said finally, picking a colour he was sure they could both visualize easily without thinking of more than one shade of the same colour. Draco wasn’t sure if what shade of the color they both visualized was important, but he figured it would probably be better if they thought of something a little more neutral.

“Alright,” Granger said clapping her hands together. “A white beam of light from Harry to Malfoy,” she said pointing a finger between the two of them. “Make sure you both keep that image in your heads.

“Now, before I cast the spell. You can stop the transfer at any time. All you need to do is let go of each other’s hands and the spell will stop. It’ll be over, and the magic will have been transferred.”

“We don’t know how much time it’ll take to transfer the magic,” Ron said. He placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “So let go when it feels right, mate.”

Harry nodded.

Draco wished he’d had someone on his side reassuring him throughout this process, but when he realized that person should have been Potter, a faint tingling ran through him telling him he wished it really could have been him. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind of all thoughts outside of the transfer.

“Are you both ready?” Granger asked.

Draco nodded and heard Potter verbally agree. The air in front of Draco’s face felt like it had been disturbed and Draco assumed Granger was waving her wand over him. Shortly after, he heard her cast the transfer spell.

Instantly, Draco felt the crackle of magic entering his body. He held Potter’s hands firmly and felt the crackling between their palms as well. Draco did what Granger had told him to and visualized Potter’s magic entering his body.

Draco could feel Potter’s magic flowing through him and wrapping around him. It traveled up his hands and his arms and spread out in all directions. Draco couldn’t explain how it felt, but if he had to, he’d have said it felt fizzy, just like the sensation of swallowing a particularly strong soda.

He kept visualizing, wondering how much magic had been transferred. Draco focused his attention on the beam of light, but the light quickly gave way to something else. The beam of light was replaced with images. Images of Potter being in a small dark room, images of what was probably Potter’s muggle family, Hagrid telling Potter he was a wizard, Weasley and Granger meeting Potter for the first time, Potter meeting him for the first time, Potter catching a snitch, a crowd swarming Potter and congratulating him, dementors chasing Potter, Draco teasing Potter, Potter following him around the castle, Potter imperiusing him. Images swirled back and forth in Draco’s head. Potter’s memories. They all came to him in no particular order or sense. Draco saw Sirius Black falling through what appeared to be some sort of portal, Dumbledore offering Potter a lemon drop, Potter’s producing his stag patronus.

There were many images of Draco in Potter’s memory over the years, but the ones that stood out the most were the very last ones. Draco saw himself in present time. Not only were images bombarding him, but Potter’s emotions were too. Joy came with Draco smiling at Potter. Giddiness came with Draco laughing with him. Guilt, regret, pain, and sadness came with images of Draco being angry at Potter or avoiding him. Those last three emotions hit Draco the hardest. The magic that buzzed through him was starting to feel far less fizzy and if Draco wasn’t imagining things. It was starting to hurt. Draco tried to pull his hands away from Potter’s, but Potter wouldn’t let go. Potter squeezed his hands tightly and kept him there.

“It’s not finished yet,” Draco heard Potter say.

Potter’s memories were still flashing through Draco’s head. “How do you know?”

 “I don’t, but I don’t think you should let go yet.”

“It hurts,” Draco said.

It was starting to hurt far more mentally than it was physically though. The images of the good times he’d had with Potter, far outweighed the bad and it was making Draco miss him more than he’d been willing to admit.

“Hold on just a little longer. It’s almost done.”

Draco grit his teeth and held Potter’s hands tighter. He needed an anchor as the images kept flying in. They were quicker than they had been before and the emotions attached to them were stronger too. It made Draco dizzy. The memories were flying so fast Draco was bound to have a headache after this was over.

Eventually the magic stopped fizzing and Draco stopped hurting too. Draco saw one last image enter his mind. It was pretty mundane. Just Draco sitting out on the grass near the lake staring out into the distance. He looked away from the lake and looked back at Potter. Draco said nothing but smiled back at Potter with a smile so bright, Draco didn’t even know he was capable of it. He felt one rolled up emotion run through him. When he parsed them apart he deciphered them as what could only have been described as warmth, happiness, hope, and fear and then he promptly passed out.

****

Draco’s eyes twitched behind his eyelids before he breathed in deeply and started awake. He rubbed his eyes and looked up at the Hospital Wing ceiling. After a few seconds of gaining his composure, Draco looked around. The first thing he saw was Potter sitting by his bedside. It clicked that Potter was holding his hand, but he dropped it as soon as he saw that Draco was awake.

Madame Pomfrey shuffled in. “I see you’re awake, Mr. Malfoy. You’ll be happy to know that your magic levels have risen greatly. I’d say they’re back to normal, thanks to the dangerous stunt the two of you pulled yesterday,” she said pointedly. “You’ve been out for quite a while. That’s what happens with sudden influxes of magic. You’re lucky nothing adverse happened.” Madame Pomfrey shook her head and went to attend to another patient.

“It’s great that it worked,” Potter said. “I’m glad you’re awake and I’m glad you’re not hurt.” Potter smiled briefly and then turned to leave.

 _So this is it._ Potter had done what he had set out to do and now he was going to leave Draco alone forever. Draco hadn’t had the time to fully process what that meant yet,  and he was sure he did want to. Draco caught Potter’s arm and pulled him back. He looked at Draco questioningly.

Draco gestured to the stool Potter had been sitting on previously. Potter looked skeptical. He stepped closer to Draco, but he didn’t sit.

“I saw how you felt,” Draco said.

Potter looked at him confused.

Draco sighed. “During the transfer, I saw some of your memories.”

“Oh?”

“Did you see anything?” Draco wondered.

Potter shook his head.

“I saw a lot of your memories. A whole lot more than I would have ever cared to see and a lot more than I’m sure you would have ever wanted me to see.”

Potter’s cheeks reddened and he looked away.

“I barely remember most of them, but I do remember the most important ones.”

Potter cleared his throat. “Which ones were those?”

“The ones where I looked at you.”

Potter looked at him confused again.

Draco clarified. “I saw plenty of memories where we spent time together. I saw how you interacted with me. I felt every single emotion that came with every single moment you spent with me, even the bad ones, but the most important thing I saw in your memories Potter was me.”

“You?”

“I saw how much I hated you in the past few weeks,” Potter flinched at that, but Draco continued, “and I saw how much I avoided you, but in your other memories I saw how I looked at you, how I laughed with you, how I smiled at you. I saw how much I loved you.” Draco corrected himself. “I saw how much I love you.”

Potter smiled. “Yeah?”

Draco swallowed. “It was completely fucked what you did to me Potter,” Draco said, a minute amount of anger still surrounding his words. “You just don’t do that to someone. Ever.” The smile dropped from Potter’s face. Draco took a breath and said, “But I’ll forgive you.”

“You wi-“

Draco cut him off. “I’m going to forgive you. Mostly for myself, because I saw how happy I was with you Potter, and even though it’s probably one of the most idiotic things I could do, I’ll take you back. I was happy in your memories and I’d like to be that way again.”

“You’re really forgiving me?” Potter asked.

Draco nodded. “It’s mostly for selfish reasons of course,” Draco teased. “I want to be happy and if that happiness has to come with you in tow, then I’m willing to try again. I’m insane and stupid for doing so, but love makes one do insane and stupid things.” Draco tugged Potter down onto the stool. He palmed Potter’s cheek and watched as he turned into it. “I’ll forgive you,” he said softly. “But I won’t forget what you did. It’ll be a while before I can fully trust you again, and we’ll have to start all over. Don’t push when I don’t want to give you answers. If there’s something you want from me. Something you want me to do, or something you want me to tell you, then tell me. Let me make my own decisions in this relationship.”

“I will. I promise,” Potter said nodding.

Draco continued.  “You gave me a second chance and now I’ll give you yours.” Draco leaned in next to Potter’s face. “Make sure you don’t mess it up this time,” he whispered.

Potter beamed. “I won’t,” he promised.

Draco had no idea if Potter’s words would ring true, but he was willing to find out.

*****

 

Unlike the time it had taken for Draco to forgive him, it had taken far longer than Harry had been told it would for the ministry to approve of Draco coming off of house arrest. Draco had told him firmly that it would take forever for them to get back on track, but Draco had softened over time, and he and Harry were comfortably content with each other in a matter of weeks. Just in time for Harry to stop stressing over their relationship so he could focus on passing his NEWTs.

Draco’s house arrest bracelet had been another story. Apparently there had been far more paperwork to get through than was previously expected, and the workers at the  Ministry supposedly had  a million hoops they had to jump through before they could even make a dent in Draco’s appeal, but fortunately, by the time August came around, Draco was able to get his bracelet removed.

“Harry,” Draco said right after the bracelet had been taken off. “Thank you for this.”

“No need to thank me,” Harry replied. “I wanted to help you get it off so we could go places together before, but now, I feel like I really owed it to you after…” Harry rubbed a hand through his hair. “After everything.”

“That’s enough of that,” Draco said pulling Harry’s hand down from his head. “I’ve already forgiven you for that. It’s in our past now. Let’s just think about the future, okay?”

Harry nodded.

Harry and Draco stepped out of the Ministry and into the cool London air. Harry watched as Draco pulled up his sleeve and rubbed his wrist where the bracelet had been. The bracelet had been tight enough to leave an indent behind and Draco seemed like he was intent on rubbing it away.    

Harry grabbed Draco’s hand and stopped him from rubbing at it. “Stop it. You’re only going to make it red. It’ll go away in a little while.”

“I know,” Draco said. “I just don’t want any reminders.”

Harry pulled Draco into him and wrapped his arms around his neck.  “You’ll forget all about it eventually. Soon enough it’ll be a distant memory.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Draco said as pecked Harry on the lips before asking, “So where are you taking me? Now that I’m a free man?”

“To get a new wand of course,” Harry said whipping out his own. He dragged Draco into the alley next to the Ministry and apparated them both to Hogsmeade. “We’ll get you a brand new wand, my treat, and then we’re going to Madame Laverne’s to celebrate with tea and cakes.”

“I’ll accept the wand, but you better not take me there Harry.” Draco said.

“Oh I’m definitely taking you there,” Harry replied. He grabbed Draco’s hand and guided him through the crowd in the direction of the wand shop.

“You are so lucky I love you,” Harry heard Draco say from behind him. “Otherwise I would have been done with you ages ago.”

Harry smiled. He was very lucky indeed that Draco Malfoy loved him. Harry had spent years harboring a crush on him; one he thought would never lead to anything. Then he’d spent months having the time of his life with him. Then he’d spent weeks waiting for Draco to completely forgive him. Harry just hoped he’d be able to spend the rest of his days with him too.


End file.
